


The touching secrets of Sherrinford

by pandabob



Series: Master Holmes [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Childhood Trauma, Family, Family Secrets, M/M, Nightmares, Post-The Final Problem, Recovery, daddy Mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-01-06 03:05:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 79,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12202638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandabob/pseuds/pandabob
Summary: Mycroft is determined to ensure the safety and security of his sister but what he finds in Sherrinford surprises him more than even he could imagine.  It can only be a good thing that Sherlock's favourite DI has been sent along for the ride.





	1. Chapter 1

It had never been discussed but Mycroft didn’t seem to question it at all when, instead of his anonymous black car turning up to collect him from hospital, Lestrade was there, stood beside his own car, smiling and opening the passenger door. “Taxi for Holmes?”

 

“Thank you,” he smiled as best he could and slipped into the seat as Lestrade made his way around to the driver’s door and climbed in.

 

“Straight to the airfield or do you need to go pack? I’ve got stuff for a week and a couple of your suits and Sherlock sorted out a wash bag and some other things for you but if you want to check for yourself we have time.” 

 

Mycroft looked straight ahead through the windscreen trying not to think too hard, “Straight to the airfield I think, I need to check that my sister is safe, I’ve been away from her for far too long already.”

 

“Twenty three hours is no time after what you’ve been through, the doctor wanted you to stay longer didn’t she?”

 

“This is all my fault inspector; I need to see that Eurus is alright, I need to know that she is safe now.”

 

Lestrade wanted to reply, he wanted to tell him that none of this was his fault but he knew he wouldn’t listen so instead he started the car and set off for the airfield and Sherrinford.

 

Mycroft hadn’t spoken for nearly ten minutes, and Lestrade had only opened his mouth to shout at idiots who shouldn’t have been allowed a license, but he kept finding himself watching Mycroft out of the corner of his eye and wanting to know what was going on in his head that was making his face look quite so sad and pale.

 

“So John tells me,” he finally decided that asking was better than not knowing, “that you’re seven years older than Sherlock and eight years older than Eurus, is that right?”

 

“John remembers things quite accurately yes.”

 

Lestrade huffed a laugh at that and saw Mycroft’s face relax just slightly. “So what was that like? An only child until you were seven and then suddenly you have not only Sherlock but Eurus as well? Must have been a big change?”

 

Of all the things anyone had ever said to him about this situation and all the questions he’d ever been asked Mycroft had never expected or received that one and without thinking his mouth answered with an honesty he rarely allowed himself.

 

“I hated it, I’d wanted a sibling for years, my parents were very attentive and caring and being just me they treated me much like one of the adults from a very early age, allowing me to attend dinners with the family and go to parties, dressed up in my perfectly tailored suits.  I was an adult at five in many ways but I really wanted someone to play with and be a child with.  I was so excited when Sherlock came along, but mummy was quickly pregnant again with Eurus and I had to look after Sherlock for her and quickly he came to see me not as a brother but as someone who told him what to do and who had to look after him when he had problems.  If anyone should have felt left out surely it was me?”

 

Mycroft took a breath and Lestrade made a none committal but hopefully supportive noise and hoped he would keep talking.

 

“Anyway, Mother and father were busy with the babies and I was left to my own devices but for uncle Rudi who took rather a shine to me once my parents were distracted.”

 

The audible gulp Mycroft took as he said it wasn’t missed by the detective part of Lestrade’s brain; he’d heard far too many stories like this one in his career not to know what Mycroft was really talking about.

 

“Sounds like an all-round nice guy uncle Rudi! He’s dead right?”

 

Mycroft smiled just slightly and cast his eyes towards Lestrade as Lestrade took the opportunity of being stopped at a red light to turn and catch his eye with a wink.

 

“Very dead yes, he trained me for his position, and put me in place to take over what he’d started with Eurus and then, very sadly, was shot!”

 

“Good!  That saves me a job.”  Lestrade grinned and then turned back to the road as the light changed to green.  “You weren’t even a teenager right? When the guy I won’t name again took your sister away?”

 

“I was twelve, just, when she went away but everyone looked to me to hold the family together and make everything ok.  Mummy and father had always treated me like an adult and they told me to look after my siblings from the day they were born and I have tried my best although I’ve failed more times than I’ve succeeded,”

 

Mycroft dropped his head into his hands and Lestrade reached across to pat his knee to try and comfort him but pulled away quickly when Mycroft flinched so hard he nearly gave himself a black eye.

 

“Sorry, shit, sorry I shouldn’t have done that, Sorry.”  Spotting a supermarket up the road Lestrade pulled into the car park, headed for the most out of the way space he could find and pulled nose in against the bushes hoping for the most privacy he could get.

 

Mycroft didn’t move, he didn’t even seem to have noticed that they’d stopped moving.

 

“Mycroft,” Lestrade turned slightly towards him in his seat but kept his hands on his lap where Mycroft could see them. “I’m sorry I did that, I’m an idiot sometimes.”  He leant his head down trying to look around Mycroft’s arms and see his eyes.  “Will you do me a favour and say something? Anything would be good; I just want to know I haven’t broken you. I am sorry, really.”

 

Mycroft sat up straight in his chair, pulling on his mask of control, “I apologise inspector, my reaction was uncalled for, please forgive me.  Shall we go? The helicopter will be waiting.”

 

“Well, it can wait can’t it? It’s not like someone else is waiting for it is it? Let’s finish this conversation, I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself, and then we’ll go ok?”

 

Mycroft looked him straight in the eye and for a second there was anger and Lestrade braced himself to be shouted at and told to drive on but then it suddenly ebbed away and was replaced by something that could only be classified as sadness and it took all his training not to reach forward and try and comfort him in the only way he knew how.

 

“I had to get out of the hospital inspector because people kept touching me, I do not like being touched, I haven’t since I was nine years old.  I tolerate mummy and father because it is predictable, expected and it would upset them if I did not. They may also ask questions I wish not to answer if I asked them not to.  Unexpected touch,” Lestrade heard the slightest hesitation in Mycroft’s words and knew that a lot of consideration had gone into the next words out of his mouth so he was surprised when they were, “Scares me inspector.”  The idea of Mycroft Holmes being scared of anything was hard to consider although if there was one thing that Lestrade had seen in the years he’d known the man that he thought might bother him people touching him would have been the thing.

 

Lestrade tried to catch his eye and when he finally managed it he spoke with as much truth as he could muster, “I promise I’ll never to touch you again without your permission Mycroft.”  And he was rewarded with an almost smile and a slight relaxation of Mycroft’s posture.

 

“You were twelve Mycroft, twelve and under the guidance of a bastard,” Mycroft’s eyes narrowed at that.  Lestrade had seen it so many times before in his job, those who couldn’t quite hate their abuser, most often because the grooming had started so young that the abuser was forever a part of them and they didn’t know what would happen to their existence if they let the ‘love’ go so he ignored it and carried on. “You didn’t take your sister from the world and lock her away, he did.  You didn’t fail to look after Eurus or Sherlock, you were a kid, the adults were responsible not you and since you became an adult and were made responsible for her imprisonment you’ve done all you could to make it the best it could be from the awful situation you were left in by the bastard.  You are not responsible for this, not for Eurus’ behaviour, not for Sherlock’s drugs and not for what your bloody uncle did. Sherlock knows it and you know it!”

 

Lestrade knew his voice had become harsh and angry as he spoke so he took a breath to calm himself before he finished what he wanted to say.  “You are a victim of this situation just as much as Eurus. You are not to blame.”

 

It was a surprise, one beyond anything he had experienced before when Mycroft reached out his hand and laid it over his on his knee, squeezing it tightly.  The shock of it almost made him flinch, which would have been a disaster, but he managed to stay still, not moving at all but for his face which broke out into a soft smile.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Lestrade nodded and smiled, “not a problem.”

 

They sat for a minute, Mycroft simply holding Lestrade’s hand and looking at him thoughtfully before he moved his hand away, smoothed down his waistcoat and put his hands on his knee.  “Shall we go inspector?”

 

“Whatever you want Mr Holmes,”

 

Mycroft turned to look at Lestrade with a confused look and Lestrade laughed, “If I get inspector you get Mr Holmes, if I get Greg you get Mycroft, the decision is yours Mr Holmes.”

 

“Ok then Gregory, let’s get going shall we.”

 

Lestrade could both hear and feel the challenge in Mycroft’s use of his full name and there was only one thing to do. “Whatever you say Myc, whatever you say.”

 

The audible huff from Mycroft at the shortening of his name made Lestrade laughed out loud before he silently congratulated himself on the win.


	2. Chapter 2

Lestrade pulled the car into one of the many available parking spaces against the fence and climbed out, going to the boot to retrieve the luggage.  After first shrugging a rucksack onto his back he reached back into the boot and pulled out a holdall before slamming the lid shut as Mycroft joined him on the road.

 

The airfield was empty but for their car and a rather menacing looking black helicopter idling about fifty yards away. “So,” Lestrade looked at Mycroft and grinned “Which ones ours?”

 

Mycroft almost laughed and then made a noise that on someone else Lestrade may have thought was surprised before he straightened his face and looked quizzically at Lestrade.

 

“Ours?”

 

“That’s what I said, you didn’t think you were going on your own did you?”

 

“Of course I am going on my own inspector, that is what I do. You need to go home and see to Sherlock, John and Rosie.  That is what you do.”

 

“Not today, today I’m going with you Mr Holmes.” Lestrade took in the look of shock on Mycroft’s face and, for just a second, questioned if he was doing the right thing before he decided that he was doing as Sherlock had asked which made it right enough for now.  “Lady Smallwood, Anthea and Sherlock made all the arrangements, not that you hadn’t already security cleared me the moment I started working with Sherlock, and I told you I’d packed for a week when I picked you up at the hospital.”

 

“But?”

 

“But nothing, we’re not letting you do this on your own.  Sherlock and John have each other, Mrs Hudson, Molly and Rosie and you drew the longest straw in the box and got me.” He finished with a wink and a grin and hoped it would be enough to convince Mycroft it was a good idea.

 

Lestrade maintained his grin and waited, watching the cogs in Mycroft’s brain turn just a little more slowly than he’d seen before.

 

“Sherlock set this up?”

 

Lestrade nodded again waiting for Mycroft’s brain to catch up.

 

“Well then inspector, I guess we are both off to Sherrinford.  Which bag is mine?”  Mycroft reached out his hand for the holdall but Lestrade pulled it away while doffing his imaginary cap with the other hand.

 

“Allow me Mr Holmes, tis me job to serve you.”

 

Mycroft looked horrified at the action and the voice Lestrade put on, that of a low down servant to his master, but after a couple of seconds he regained his composure.  “Point well-made Greg, now which is my bag?”

 

“The rucksack’s yours but I’m fine with them both Mycroft,” his name was in no way necessary to the communication but given Mycroft’s concession on ‘inspector’ Lestrade dropped it in anyway. “You concentrate on your umbrella and on getting us on that helicopter and I’ll concentrate on not getting accidentally left behind.”  Lestrade winked and Mycroft gave him a look of a man whose plan had just been derailed before they both strode, confidently across the airfield to the waiting helicopter.

 

 

 

 

Sherrinford wasn’t a long trip by helicopter, something Lestrade was happy about as Mycroft was getting more and more jumpy by the second and he was really having to work hard to stop himself reaching out to touch his arm to try and steady him, an action he knew would have had the totally opposite effect if he gave in to it.

 

“The living quarters are on the top floor,” Mycroft started talking as the helicopter approached the island for landing and Lestrade listened to the instructions while smiling internally at the suddenly together nature of his companion.  All the worry and talk from earlier was gone and right there was Mr Mycroft Holmes, the Mycroft Holmes the world got to see, calm, confident and in control of everything. 

 

“We will take our bags to our rooms before checking on Eurus.  Locks have been changed, some staff remain in service but all senior personnel are held in the cells on the lower floor ready to be interviewed, you will no doubt be very helpful with that.”

 

Lestrade felt himself relax slightly at the thought of there actually being something useful he could do rather than just watching Mycroft.

 

“Once we have checked that Eurus is ok and ensured that she is being well cared for we must check the security and safety of the other inmates.  The rest of the establishment must be searched, those affected by Eurus must be sent for corrective treatment and recorded in order to ensure that the public are safe and before we leave a new governor will be appointed and safety and monitoring measures put in place.”

 

Finally having delivered all the information Mycroft looked at Lestrade and his eyes almost smiled, “We may not achieve very much sleep however we should be home before your packing runs out.”

 

“Sounds good to me, I’ll do whatever you want just point me in the right direction.”

 

 

The helicopter landed softly on the deck and both men stepped out, Mycroft had taken his bag on his back while Lestrade carried his holdall and as they approached the door two armed guards stepped forward requesting identification, which was swiftly provided, and they were led through the door, down a short corridor to the door on the end.  “Your room sirs,”

 

Mycroft looked at the guard then at Lestrade and then back to the guard.  “One room?”

 

“Yes sirs, there is only one free room.”

 

Lestrade laughed, “Well I guess we shouldn’t have trusted Sherlock and Lady Smallwood should we!”

 

“This is not funny Inspector!” Mycroft sounded cross but also a little lost as to what to do next and Lestrade cursed himself just a moment too late as the words “Sorry Mr Holmes” crossed his lips and reached the ears of the guard before he could stop them.  The colour of Mycroft’s face was a thing to behold.  He was bright red and pure anger shot from his eyes as he glared at Lestrade while shouting at the guard to ‘leave NOW!’

 

The guard almost ran down the corridor and Lestrade stood, frozen to the spot trying not to shake under the glare he was receiving from Mycroft, and waited to be shouted at but it never happened.  As soon as they were alone the anger drained from Mycroft and he leant against the door frame. “The Holmes brothers should never be allowed to organise anything, we’re both useless!”

 

Lestrade wasn’t sure that there was a good answer to that so he decided to ignore it instead and focus on getting into the room and getting on with the job.

 

“Let’s take a look before we panic shall we? There’ll probably be a comfy chair or something and you said we wouldn’t be getting much sleep anyway so what does it matter what room we’re not sleeping in?”

 

Mycroft didn’t say anything but Lestrade’s words had enough effect to make him stand up properly, straighten his jacket and let himself into the room where he found that there was far less to worry about than he’d thought.

 

The room was larger than they’d assumed from outside, two double beds sat against the wall either side of a large chest of drawers with two wardrobes opposite the beds and a door that they assumed led to the en-suite bathroom.

 

Mycroft put his bag on the chair in the corner and sat down on the bed nearest the door. 

 

“You having that one then?”  Lestrade strode over to the other one and flopped down on his back.  “Nice mattress this.”  Lestrade stretched his arms above his head and let out a sigh before sitting back up and looking at Mycroft’s back.  “You ok with this Mycroft? I know you were worried about sharing.”

 

“I’m fine.”  Mycroft turned sideways, bringing his knee up onto the bed. “It makes sense that Sherlock would arrange for us to share if he wanted someone to come with me.  If he is worried about my ability to look after myself then I can’t be allowed a room of my own can I?”

 

“Stop being an idiot Mycroft, please.”  The look of shock on Mycroft’s face was a surprise but Lestrade tried not to be put off by it.  “He doesn’t doubt your ability to look after yourself, he cares for you and he’s worried that you’re on your own and won’t let anyone care for you even though they want to and that now and again you might benefit from it.  The room share, I’m fairly sure, is simply there not being another room.”  He left a slight pause to allow his words to sink in “I promise I don’t snore and I packed Pjs for us both so I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

 

After a moments deep thought Mycroft nodded, seemingly accepting Lestrade’s explanation and Lestrade stood up, straightened his trousers and nodded towards the door, “shall we?”

 

Straightening his suit as he stood up Mycroft took a deep breath letting it out slowly as his cool, calm, iceman shield slid over him and waved towards the door, “After you.”


	3. Chapter 3

Eurus was sat on her bed with her back to the glass, seemingly staring into space. Mycroft could have checked on her using any of the seventeen new cameras that filmed the room every minute of every day but that wasn’t enough; he needed to see her even if it was through glass. Lestrade stood about three feet away from Mycroft, the same distance he’d kept every moment since they’d left their room, and watched everything that could never be said, all the guilt he would never escape and all the pain at what the future was going to bring for his sister play across Mycroft’s face so infinitesimally that no one would notice unless they cared enough to look properly and as he watched he wondered if anyone but he ever had.

They stood in silence for nearly half an hour, Mycroft watching and Eurus unmoving, before Mycroft wished his sister goodbye and turned to leave the cell. Lestrade followed him to the door but he cast a glance back at Eurus just before the door closed behind them and found that she’d turned to watch them go so he smiled at her, as he always did when people looked at him, and then watched the airlock door close before suddenly feeling a warm hand rest heavily on his arm. 

“You ok?” Lestrade didn’t move at the touch but he had to fight the urge to reach up and lay his hand over Mycroft’s.

“Not really but in ten seconds I’ll be back to pretending I am.”

“Ok but only until we get back to our room okay?”

“That will be many hours from now Greg.” As the second door began to open Mycroft stood up straight and moved his hand from Greg’s shoulder.

“However many hours it is, it still is okay.”

“Thank you.”

The door opened fully and, as if everything was entirely ok, Mycroft strode back up the corridor, head held high and umbrella tapping on the ground. Lestrade walked behind, watching the staff and tracing the movement of the CCTV cameras taking in all the information he could as they made their way up three flights of stairs to the ‘management hub.’ 

 

Mycroft took the governor’s office, now was the time to review the paperwork for the last few years, while Lestrade took the office next door to begin his interviews. Mycroft would no doubt review the tapes later, Lestrade was confident the man would not trust his judgement of the staff, but it was nice to feel of some use and not actually having to meet the staff face to face would be better for Mycroft he was sure.

Start at the bottom was Lestrade’s decision, Mycroft wasn’t sure that that was the way to go but as he kept accidentally addressing Lestrade by his work title rather than his name it wasn’t hard for Lestrade to convince him that he might know a thing or two about conducting an investigation.

It became clear that the personnel who were still freely working within Sherrinford knew very little about anything to do with Eurus or the old governor. Each person, one after another, answered his questions without issue, was polite and helpful and a number of them even spoke sadly about the residents within the establishment, showing care and compassion alongside a very clear understanding of why the residents were held there and how important it was that they remain there.

At nine thirty, having completed interviews with every free member of staff, free meaning not imprisoned on the floor below, Lestrade decided that it was far too long since he’d eaten anything and if he didn’t stop now the important interviews were unlikely to provide him with anything that he would remember so he left the office, locking the door behind him, and walked the short distance to the door of the office next door.

Having knocked three times and received no response Lestrade turned the handle and pushed the door open before shutting it quickly behind him when he saw Mycroft asleep, face down on his desk. 

How do you wake a man who’s asleep on his desk without attracting the attention of anyone outside the office and without touching him? 

This was the question Lestrade considered for more than a few moments as he watched Mycroft sleeping with his head resting on his left arm, pen sitting between the fingers of his right hand as if he’d simply run out of batteries mid-sentence.

He looked so calm laying there, his breathing was soft and slow and all the stress and worry that was normally written just under the surface of his face was lost in the relaxed muscles and the almost smile on his sleeping face. He could have stood there watching him sleep for far longer than he did if his stomach hadn’t rumbled exceedingly loudly and answered the original question.

Mycroft stirred at the noise of Lestrade’s stomach, and the embarrassed laughter that came after it, and Lestrade saw the exact moment that Mycroft became aware of his surroundings and pulled himself back into work mode.

“It’s only me; no one else has been in.” He stepped further into the room approaching the desk. “You’re done for tonight.” Mycroft opened his mouth to argue as Lestrade slipped into the seat across the desk from him but then seemed to decide it wasn’t worth it. “I’m done for tonight, so where do we find food around here? Please tell me I wasn’t supposed to pack it and Sherlock, the none eater, forgot to tell me”

Organising his hair and pulling his suit straight Mycroft stood up from the desk with a smile, “I ordered food earlier, only sandwiches, salad and fruit as I didn’t know what time we’d want it, but it should be in a cool box by our bedroom door when we get there. I hope that’s alright.”

“Sounds perfect to me, come on let’s get up there away from this lot, lock ourselves in, wash away the day and be not quite ok for a bit yeah?”

Mycroft nodded and tried to smile and they quickly made their way out of the office, locking it securely behind them, and up to their room where Lestrade picked up the cool box and followed Mycroft through the door putting the box on top of the drawers between the beds.

“Would you mind if I take a shower before we eat? If your stomach won’t take the wait you are free to start without me.”

Lestrade smiled at the tease in Mycroft’s voice “I like my food and I haven’t had anything since breakfast but I think I can wait a few more minutes. You should find everything you need in your bag; Sherlock promised he’d sorted it.”

Mycroft reached for his bag, “I’ll be quick, I promise”

 

Opening the cool box Lestrade was surprised to find two dinner plates, two bowls and four fruit bowls in the top alongside four glasses. They weren’t paper plates; these were proper plates that he could imagine seeing in any of the high end restaurants in London. Directly underneath the plates were four sets of cutlery, knife, fork and spoon, wrapped neatly in cloth napkins and then came the food.

Sandwiches, salad and fruit, as Mycroft had described it didn’t in any way do justice to the food Lestrade started laying out on Mycroft’s bed. There were three large plates of sandwiches which seemed to include roast beef and onion, cucumber and avocado and something with prawns as well as the simple cheese and ham that Lestrade normally took to work for his lunch. The box of salad wasn’t the limp lettuce that took that title in his fridge at home it was the vibrant green of rocket and spinach mixed with red and yellow cherry tomatoes, slices of cucumber and red, yellow and orange peppers. On further inspection Lestrade also found spring onions and celery in the mix.

Sitting the salad bowl next to the plates of sandwiches he turned back to the box, which seemed to have taken on a Mary Poppins bag shape in his head, a thought that made him laugh at himself, and he dug out a bottle of orange juice that was surrounded by numerous boxes of different types of breakfast cereal, all ready for the early morning call he guessed, and a rather large box of fruit that had more things in it that he couldn’t name than those he could. There were bottles of milk, cream and yogurt in the bottom but he decided to leave them there until later and resealed the lid. Standing the glasses on the box he poured two large orange juices just as the bathroom door opened and Mycroft reappeared looking nothing like Lestrade had ever seen him before.

“I feel rather overdressed now,” Lestrade smiled at Mycroft taking in his still wet hair and the dark blue pyjamas he was wearing. “Should I go shower before I eat?” He stepped towards his bag pulling out a towel from the top but Mycroft waved his hand and smiled.

“Not on my account Greg, I simply wished to do as you suggested earlier once we were back in our room.”

Lestrade thought back over the day recalling their conversation as they left Eurus’ cell and smiled, “Right then.” He reached out his hand and motioned towards the end of his bed, “Take a seat, relax, and let’s enjoy some of this wonderful dinner while neither of us pretend that this whole experience isn’t a bloody nightmare!”

Mycroft sat down on the edge of Lestrade’s bed, feet still on the floor, while Lestrade filled two of the plates with a selection of sandwiches and salad. He laid the two plates in the middle of his bed and then climbed on; settling himself crossed legged on his pillow and picked up his plate onto his knees, tucking in enthusiastically. 

Mycroft had sat motionless, simple watching as Lestrade prepared the plates and settled down to eat, and he didn’t move towards his plate even when Lestrade started eating and complimenting the sandwiches.

Setting down his plate Lestrade moved to the side of the bed, dropping his feet to the floor and settling a foot away from Mycroft. “You ok?”

Mycroft’s head dropped just slightly at the question and his answer was almost a whisper “no.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Lestrade dropped to his knees in front on Mycroft to meet his eyes but still far enough away he hoped not to be a threat, “You know you don’t have to be alright don’t you?”

Mycroft didn’t reply but when Lestrade noticed a tear escape his eyes and passed him a tissue from his pocket he did smile just slightly.

“What you do need though is to eat something; I will fail at the looking after you if you waste away while we’re here won’t I?”

“I don’t need looking after Inspector!” Lestrade decided to let the snark at his name go by and instead replied calmly “Maybe not but you do need to eat.” He didn’t say anything else and quickly moved away to resume his crossed legged position on the bed and return to his dinner and waiting for Mycroft to join him.

It took only a minute for Mycroft to wipe his eyes and discard the tissue in the bin and then he returned to the foot of the bed, mirroring Lestrade’s position and began to eat. He started slowly, taking small bites of his sandwich and tiny forkfuls of his salad but as the food hit his very empty stomach, and as he watched Lestrade enjoying his food enthusiastically, his consumption speeded up and in the end his plate was cleared before Lestrade’s.

“Did you enjoy that?” Lestrade grinned and Mycroft smiled right back,

“I did rather yes. Is there anything in there for dessert?”

“Oh yes, fruits I can’t name and either cream or yogurt, which do you fancy?” the last was said as he jumper off the bed and, having handed a glass of orange juice to Mycroft and placed his own down on the drawer top next to him, opened the cool box reaching in for the box of fruit and two bowls.

“Cream would be lovely if you don’t mind, thank you.”

“I don’t mind at all,” he handed him a large bowl of fruit with a sinfully large puddle of cream on top. “There’s breakfast stuff in here as well and,” Lestrade turned to survey the plates of sandwiches still left on Mycroft’s bed, “I think we should both take some of the left overs for lunch tomorrow, and actually eat them,” at that he raised his eyebrows at Mycroft and looked sternly at him. “So that we aren’t starving by the time we’re safely back here tomorrow night.”

With a mouthful of papaya, mango and cream Mycroft decided against a vocal answer and simply nodded instead knowing full well that Lestrade would be too busy interviewing the staff still incarcerated in the cells to check whether he ate the pack up or not.

 

Lestrade stowed the left over fruit and cream back in the box for the morning and made up two plates of sandwiches and salad for their lunches, which he covered with the tin foil he removed from the plates earlier, putting them in the box and sealing the lid before moving the rest of the rubbish from Mycroft’s bed to the bin by the door.

“Right then, shower time, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

It was nearly midnight when he returned from the shower and Lestrade had expected to find Mycroft in his own bed ready for some sleep so he was surprised to find him still sat on his, although he had moved around and was now sat on the pillow with his back resting against the headboard cradling a book in his lap. 

“What you reading?”

Mycroft place a piece of paper that he’d been fiddling with in his fingers into the book and closed it as he looked up. “Nothing really.”

“It looks like something to me,” Lestrade teased.

“Well yes but it’s something Sherlock put in my bag when he packed it and therefore I’m not really sure what it is but it appears to be a book about misunderstandings that lead to loss of people you love and how you might get them back. I assume from the fact Sherlock put it in my bag he wishes me to read it so I am.”

“definitely not nothing then,” It was said in what he hoped was a voice of comfort but Mycroft simple shrugged and climbed off the bed, moving over to his own. He slipped under the covers, turning away from Lestrade and stowing the book under the spare pillow without any further comment so Lestrade wasn’t sure it had come out as he intended.

Lying in the dark, under his rather lovely duvet, Lestrade listened to Mycroft’s breathing and his very loud thinking. (When did hearing people think become something that he could actually do rather than just something Sherlock said to idiots to annoy them?) The cogs of Mycroft’s mind were obviously working overtime but as Lestrade felt his eyes grow heavy he decided to let himself drift off to sleep. Mycroft knew where he was if he needed him and he reasoned that at least one of them should get some sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

The five am wakeup call hadn’t really surprised Lestrade but he was very grateful that it came with a large cup of hot coffee.  Mycroft looked as if he’d had one and maybe two cups already but he set down one for himself on the drawer top where he’d already laid out bowls of the remaining fruit, this time topped with yogurt, and empty bowls for cereal.

 

“Corn flakes or Weetabix?”

 

“Corn flakes please; I only like Weetabix with warm milk.”

 

Mycroft turned to him with a look Lestrade could only categorise as disgust on his face, “Really?”

 

“Yes really, you should try it.  Mum used to do it for me when it was cold cos I didn’t like porridge.  Lots of sugar and its lovely.”

 

“I’ll take your word for it.”  The sentence clearly meant ‘that sounds horrible’ but Mycroft was far too polite to say that.

 

“Each to their own I guess and it’s not like I share breakfast with anyone normally is it so I can eat what I want.”

 

“Too true, too true.  For now though, corn flakes.”

 

 

 

They were in their offices, showered dressed and ready to go, by six thirty in the hope that Lestrade would make his way through all the imprisoned personnel by lunchtime so Mycroft could review the information and send each person to the best location for them be that the dungeon cells of Sherrinford, the medical establishment commandeered to deal with this situation or back to their homes with a life-long pension and full time surveillance.  Mycroft still had files to read and security procedures to check as well as CCTV records and job application forms to consider but they agreed to meet at two for a trip to see Eurus followed by lunch not that Lestrade had much hope of Mycroft actually eating.

 

Five hours and fourteen interviews later Lestrade was fed up of sob stories and tears and passing the blame around and he’d heard far too many stories about children at home missing fathers and even one or two who thought now was the time to argue about their imprisonment.  It hadn’t taken long for him to work out which men were in need of deprogramming, which were too far gone to be safe ever to release back into society and which unfortunate souls had been caught up in all this and just needed to be allowed to go home and forget about it, safe in the knowledge that the state was providing for them and keeping them safe.  He hoped Mycroft would agree with his assessments and that his last interview, before he started on the four top guys of the establishment who he could only think would be spending the rest of their days in the cells next to Eurus, would pass quickly.

 

 

“Mr Davies.”  Lestrade addressed the man as he walked through the door, “Take a seat please and tell me your position here.”

 

“Has someone checked room 369?”  Mr Davies looked worried more than nervous as he addressed Lestrade with the question.

 

“I will be asking the questions Mr Davies, the quicker you answer them the quicker you will be out of here.  Now tell me your position here.”

 

“Michael Davies, guard to Eurus Holmes and other inmates.”

 

“Thank you.”  Lestrade was grateful for a straight answer; this might well be the quick one he’d hoped for.  “Tell me about every interaction you’ve had with Ms Holmes since you arrived here Mr Davies, as accurately as you can.”

 

Mr Davies thought for a few moments, Lestrade assumed he was going back over his time there, searching his mind for information, so he was struck almost dumb when Davies simply replied “no”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Mr Davies leant forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees and looked at Lestrade. “I have been locked in that cell for,” He looked at his watch and was clearly working out the hours, “thirty two hours, I have not checked on room 369 in that time and I don’t know who else would have.”

 

“All prisoners are accounted for, checked and secured. All staff are accounted for, interviewed and dealt with accordingly. You, Mr Davies, will answer my questions or this interview will be over and I will have to assume your hostility to the human race and deal with you as such a title requires.”

 

“Then,” Mr Davies met Lestrade’s eye with a steely stare, “He will die.”

 

All the wind was blown from Lestrade’s sails by that and he sat down on the desk next to Davies’ chair just catching the whispered “if he’s not dead already.”

 

Lestrade took a deep breath, “We’ll check room 369 and then you’ll answer my questions ok?” Davies lifted his head at that and Lestrade saw real emotion on another human for the first time since he’d left his bedroom this morning.  “Come on then.”

 

Grabbing his keys and securing Davies to his arm, he wouldn’t want to have to explain to Mycroft how he’d been tricked into releasing the man; he followed Davies’ lead as he clearly knew where he was going.

 

As they approached room 369 Lestrade saw a young man, one who he had interviewed yesterday, exiting the room and as the man froze like a deer in the headlights Lestrade felt Davies relax and let out an audible sigh of relief at his side.  “You been looking after him James?”

 

“Er…um… yeah.”  James, as the man appeared to be called, looked at Lestrade and shrank under his gaze, “I’m sorry Sir, please don’t lock me up, I didn’t mean to lie to you, I knew Michael had been locked up and someone had to, well er…” he stopped talking and stepped back from the door as Davies hurried forward dragging Lestrade with him.

 

“I’ll tell you anything once I know he’s ok, I just want to see him with my own eyes, thank god for you James, I’ve been sick with worry.”

 

James didn’t speak, he still looked terrified, and Lestrade could understand that, lying during an investigation like this was not going to go down well with Mycroft but it did seem like there was a good reason, reason enough for Davies to risk the permanent end of his freedom anyway so he let James walk away.

 

 

 

At first glance the room was much like Eurus’ cell, although it was a smaller version of it.  In one corner there was a chair, which looked like it had been cast into the floor and in the other corner was what looked like a small basket for a dog.  There was little else in the room but for a bottle of water next to the glass, that looked a bit like a hamsters drinking bottle and a bag of what appeared to be biscuits of some kind hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room resting on the floor.

 

Mr Davies moved towards the glass and sat down on the floor, pulling Lestrade with him due to the restraints and then put his hand on the glass and began to sing softly.  Lestrade didn’t recognise the tune or the words and he was about to ask what the hell was going on when he suddenly heard movement from behind the chair in the corner.

 

A dog, Lestrade thought, all this fuss over a bloody dog! They’re not even supposed to have pets here; I can’t believe he’s dragged me up here for this!  The thinking and the increasing anger stopped dead though when instead of a wet nose appearing round the chair there came a shock of black curly hair slowly followed by the pale white arms and legs of a very small little boy on hands and knees.

 

“What the Fuck” the words left Lestrade’s mouth far too loudly and Davies shot him a look of hatred as the boy disappeared back behind the chair.

 

“Shut up or get out!”  It was a whisper but that didn’t diminish the anger of it, “You scare him again and I’ll kill you, don’t care what happens to me.”

 

“I’m sorry” Lestrade whispered, meaning it more than he had ever before in his life.

 

Davies nodded and turned back to the glass, putting his hand back on it and resuming his song.

 

It took a couple of minutes before they saw movement again and Lestrade worked hard to keep control of himself and all the hundreds of questions he had while watching what appeared to be, given his limited knowledge of children, a boy of little more than a year, crawl his way across the room and sit himself inches, and yet a whole glass partition away from Davies, placing his hand where Davies’ warmed the glass.

 

Lestrade watched as Davies smiled and the boy smiled back.  Davies began tracing shapes on the glass and the boy followed with his finger, there were squiggles and zigzags and then shapes and letters and finally a big smiley face was drawn on each side of the glass as the boy and the guard played together in an obviously well practiced way. 

 

The guard and the boy played for almost an hour, five minutes in Lestrade had removed Davies’ restraints to allow him use of both hands freely and had moved away from the glass, sitting himself on the floor by the door as unobtrusively as possible so he could watch the child and try and work out what he was going to do about this obviously unknown resident of this hellhole.

 

Eventually the boy yawned and Lestrade felt his heart flip at the unexpected humanness of the situation when Davies mimicked the yawn and then waved his hand, a signal the boy obviously understood, as he turned to crawl over to the bed on the floor, curling up tight and then waving to Davies who waved back before standing up and turning away.

 

Lestrade saw the boys eyes close the instant Davies turned away and he was clearly asleep within seconds because he face relaxed into an almost smile, sparking a reminder of something in Lestrade’s brain but he wasn’t sure quite what.

 

“I’ll answer any questions you have now Sir, now I know he’s alright.”

 

Lestrade didn’t bother with the restraints when Davies offered his arm and he didn’t say anything, fearing that the emotion in his voice would be hard to hide but, having secured the door, they walked side by side back to the interview room where Lestrade stopped just outside the room to set a few ground rules for the conversation that was about to take place in the office.

 

 

 

Mycroft’s cameras were rolling when they re-entered the room and Lestrade instructed Davies to return to his chair before asking his question again.

 

Davies gave a run-down of (almost) all his interactions with Eurus and (almost) all the instructions he’d been given in relation to her and Lestrade was happy that the information he had on tape would be sufficient for Mycroft to retain the man in post for now before offering him safe retirement when whatever the situation was with this child had been resolved so he ‘invited’ him to leave and ‘offered’ an escort through the door, up the many stairs and along to the door he had first entered the building through yesterday.

 

With no helicopter in sight the guards were busy doing something else so Lestrade was able to lead Davies through the door and out on to the roof without incident.  They stood in the middle of the open yard, as far away from anything that could be recording them as possible and with one word Lestrade asked all his questions all at once “Spill!”

 

Davies laughed at the instruction, so entirely informal after the conversation they’d just had, and then he began to talk.

 

“The boy is fourteen months old, he has never left his cell and as soon as he could hold his own bottle I’ve not been allowed in the room with him but to change his nappy.  I am not allowed to speak to him or touch him, no one is, and I am the only one of the plebs who knows about him.  The people in charge know all about him but it appears they didn’t tell anyone even when we were all locked up for days.  He’d have died without James and I don’t know how James found out but I’m glad he did.”

 

“There’s a reason Mr Holmes isn’t supposed to know about the boy isn’t there? A reason that the bosses of this place would have let him starve to death rather than tell him about him?”

 

Davies took a deep breath and then another and another before he could bring himself to answer the question.  He didn’t look at Lestrade, instead keeping his eyes on the gap on the floor between their shoes as he spoke, and it was barely more than a whisper “The boy is a Holmes Sir.”

 

“What?”

 

“The bosses want him kept secret because he is a Holmes of known mother but unknown father and the known mother is the most dangerous prisoner here.”

 

“How?... What?... who?...What!”  Lestrade’s dragged his fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands trying to restore his ability to think and eventually he felt almost back on an even keel.  “That boy is Mr Holmes’ nephew, he’s been kept here without love or affection, since the day he was born because the governor and his disciples thought that was what was best and when Eurus escaped, the world went to hell and Mr Holmes locked you all up to try and stop it happening again they left baby Holmes to starve rather than admit his existence?”

 

“That’s about the size of it Sir yes, I’ve done my best for the boy though, I’ve tried.”

 

“I know,” Lestrade’s voice softened and he clapped his hand on the guards shoulder squeezing it slightly, “you are so good with him given the limits of what you’re allowed, he’s been lucky to find you here.  Go back to work, go look after him and I’ll figure out what the hell to do in regard to Mr Holmes.  Keep the secret a secret until I tell you otherwise ok?”

 

“Yes Sir, thank you.”

 

Davies turned, eager to return to the building and get back into routine with his little charge, and Lestrade followed just as quickly but far less enthusiastically behind him.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

“You ready?”  Lestrade had stepped into Mycroft’s office finding him still hard at work at two o’clock,

 

“Just one moment.” Mycroft read to the end of the page and then lifted the paper off the desk, ripping it into four pieces, and threw it in the bin before he looked up and almost smiled.  “Let’s go and see my sister.”

 

Lestrade held the door open for Mycroft to exit and smiled at the slight brush of his shoulder as he passed, “Are you finished with the interviews?”

 

“Not exactly,”  Lestrade paused waiting for Mycroft to lock the office door before he continued. “Those I haven’t yet interviewed however are to be classified as threats to the human race and need to be dealt with accordingly.”

 

“How can you classify people you haven’t spoken to, you,” and it was clear that Mycroft meant the very specific you of Lestrade, “Don’t do things like that. You always let people be heard.”

 

“Not this time.”  The tone made it clear that the conversation was over for now which Mycroft accepted in good grace and instead moved the conversation on to the fact that they’d left their lunch in there room, something Lestrade was fairly sure wasn’t an accident on Mycroft’s part, and therefore they would have to head straight back there after visiting Eurus.

 

On entering Eurus’ cell Lestrade was surprised as Mycroft walked right up to the glass, instead of remaining by the door like last night, and touched it, as if to check that it was still there, and he didn’t move his hand away as he said hello to his sister.  The action interested Lestrade after his experience with Davies earlier and he stepped away towards the door, taking up a similar position as in room 369 earlier, sitting on the floor and watching his friend closely.

 

Mycroft talked quietly to his sister, first telling her he was sorry that he’d failed her and that she was stuck here and then moving on to stories about when she was tiny and he used to watch her sleeping or playing with her toys.  Eurus didn’t move from her seat on the bed, back to her brother, but Mycroft kept talking, with his hand on the glass, getting as close to his sister as he was allowed, until his time was up and he had to say goodbye.

 

Turning away from the glass Mycroft noticed Lestrade, sat on the floor watching and he offered his hand to pull him up.  Lestrade looked at him carefully; searching his face for anything that might be hiding but when he found nothing he grasped the offered hand and pulled himself to his feet.  “Thank you”

 

“Happy to help.”  Mycroft said it with a smile which Lestrade mirrored before they exited through the door and headed up to the fourth floor for the safety of their room and their lunch.

 

 

 

 

“Was that an application form you threw in the bin?”  Lestrade was sat on his bed, back resting against the headboard eating his lunch while Mycroft sat, looking rather less comfortable, at the other end.

 

“Yes, I’m struggling to find anyone suitable to run the establishment.  Are you sure none of our current management are safe to leave in charge?”

 

“Can we discuss this after lunch? Not in here?”  Lestrade had regretted raising the subject of the job over lunch the moment he’d asked about the application, this was supposed to be a not thinking about the job space.  “I know I brought it up, sorry.”

 

“I think that sounds like a good plan”

 

They ate in silence for almost a minute before Lestrade couldn’t help but laugh. “Ants in your pants or just uncomfortable Mycroft?”

 

“I’m sorry,” and his face really did look sorry, “I am simply trying to make myself comfortable and struggling.”

 

Lestrade moved from the middle of the bed towards the left hand edge, “Why don’t you come sit this end and lean on the headboard, it’s really quite nice up here.”

 

“Is that… ? do you…? Erm…”

 

It wasn’t until that moment that Lestrade considered how strange this situation might be for Mycroft.  There didn’t seem to be any fear in him, Mycroft couldn’t possibly maintain the act of such calmness for so long if being in a room, with beds, with someone else actually scared him but given Mycroft’s feelings about touch it was more than likely that he’d never sat on the same bed as someone else, certainly not when it wasn’t a bastard who needed chinning for even being there.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think.  Let’s swap, you sit up here and I’ll sit there, I sit cross legged on my bed most of the time when I’m working at home it’s no bother.”

 

“No, don’t move, it’s a kind offer but I think the most sensible thing would be for me to take the other pillow as you first suggested then we can both be comfortable.”

 

Mycroft moved slowly and deliberately around the bed, Lestrade could see the thought going into it all over his face but he sat and waited until Mycroft was beside him, still a good ten inches between them and then he leaned back against the headboard and smiled at him.  “comfy?”

 

“Yes.”  Mycroft spoke with a real smile and a voice that was the most relaxed Lestrade had even heard from him.

 

“Good good, eat up”

 

They both went back to their food, enjoying the silence and comfort until, much to his own surprise, even Mycroft had cleared his plate.

 

“I will leave the box outside and will arrange its removal and replacement before dinner.”

 

“Give me the number and I’ll do it, you get back to your applications and let’s get this job done.”

 

“Ok.” Mycroft scribbled the phone number on a piece of paper and passed it over, “thank you.”

 

“No need for thank you, it’s all personal interest really, you can go days without eating but my stomach embarrasses me after only a few hours.”

 

“Still thank you, it is nice not to be here alone.” 

 

Lestrade grinned at that, “It’s good to be here.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Having walked Mycroft back to his office and seen the door close behind him, meaning he was unlikely to leave again in the next few hours, Lestrade went in search of Mr Davies.  First port of call was, of course, room 369 but he wasn’t there.  Lestrade did take a few moments to watch the boy behind the glass who seemed to be using the chair as a means to pull himself up to try and stand on his feet.  Each time he tried his hands slipped from the smooth plastic and he fell onto his bottom only to start all over again. 

 

Looking around the cell Lestrade had to wonder how the poor child kept themselves entertained which was much the same thought as he’d thought about Eurus when he first saw her cell.  He knew that if Sherlock had been locked in a bland empty place such as that he’d have been plotting the downfall of the world within hours never mind thirty years.

 

Closing the door again Lestrade turned to find himself face to face with James who once again looked scared and frozen to the spot but Lestrade smiled, hoping to calm him so he might offer some useful information. “Hey, James was it?”

 

James nodded

 

“So how did you find out about the boy? Have you been looking after him?”

 

James shook his head and Lestrade wondered for a moment if he was going to have this whole conversation in mime.

 

“Tell me?”  It wasn’t an order and it was delivered with concern and James visibly relaxed,

 

“I noticed a few months ago that Michael kept disappearing and that when he came back he was smiling and humming an old song my mum used to sing when I was a kid.  I asked him what was going on but he told me I was imagining it so next time he went I followed him and he came here.  He came five or six times a day, stayed for over an hour sometimes and always came out smiling.” 

 

James took a breath, “when Michael was locked up I was worried about him not being able to come and do whatever he was doing so I set a bit of a trap to see if anyone else came instead.”

 

“A trap?”  Lestrade was curious.

 

“I taped a thread to the top of the door and to the frame,” James pointed at the remnants of tape on the door.  “so if anyone went it in would be broken, I checked it every hour until way past when Michael used to come here but it was still there so I, god this is going to get me thrown in the cells with them isn’t it?”

 

“It’s unlikely you can have done something so bad it counteracts saving a baby’s life don’t you think?”

 

James tried to smile at that but it didn’t really reach his eyes.  “I broke into Michael’s room and stole his key and I let myself in to see what was here and I found him crying on the floor.  He had water and food, if you can call it that, but he was sat at the glass as if he was looking for someone.  I sat down and he stopped crying but he just stared at me and then went to sleep.  I came back to check on his food and water whenever I could and I tried to interact with him but he just looked at the door as if.”  He stopped talking and looked Lestrade in the eye for the first time, “He looked as if he was missing Michael and there was nothing I could do to make it better.”

 

Lestrade reached out his hand and patted James on the shoulder, “You saved his life James, while your bosses were keeping quiet trying to save their own skin you took a risk, set a trap and saved a little boy’s life.  You and Michael are the best I’ve met here, don’t let anyone ever tell you different ok.”

 

James still didn’t look too sure but he did at least seem able to square his shoulders and look up at the world again. 

 

“Do you know where Michael is? Or what time he’ll be here?”

 

“He’s normally here at three.” 

 

Lestrade looked at his watch, “I’ll wait for him then, thank you.”

 

“No problem Sir. I better get on though, I need to check on the residents.”

 

As he watched James go Lestrade heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Michael approaching.

 

“Sir, what can I do for you?”

 

“I wanted to know what times you were visiting your boy today, I think Mr Holmes needs to know and I think it would be less traumatic if he could see him playing with you than if he is simply introduced to a clinical cell containing another of his relatives.”

 

“Will he not mind me playing with him? I’m not really supposed to, I’m not supposed to sing either but I can’t help myself.”

 

“He won’t mind at all, in fact I think he might well consider your method of following the rules while still breaking them rather wonderful, so what time, I don’t want to mess up your routine, he’s had enough of that the last few days.”

 

“Eight until nine, just before bedtime, is probably best.  I’ll make sure he’s changed and ready for eight if you want.”

 

“right then, I’ll see you out here just before eight.”  Lestrade made to walk away but then stopped and looked back at Michael who had just opened the room door and smiled.  “Have fun with him.”


	6. Chapter 6

A call to the number that Mycroft had given him followed by three hours walking up and down the corridors on each floor, opening every door as he passed to make sure that there were no more hidden residents, filled Lestrade’s afternoon and kept his body, if not his mind, busy until it was time to disturb Mycroft from his work.

 

Lestrade knocked on the office door out of politeness but he pushed it open and walked in without waiting. “Dinner time Mycroft, we’re eating hot tonight and we’re eating here so move your stuff.” Lestrade just grinned at the shocked and confused look on Mycroft’s face and started piling things up on the right hand side of the desk. “Come on, they’ll be here in a minute.  Breakfast and lunch for tomorrow should be right where we found dinner last night when we get there as well.”

 

“Why are we eating at my desk?”  Mycroft had recovered his speech and, despite his obvious confusion, he joined Lestrade in clearing away his open files and making space for whatever food was coming.

 

“We need to eat; we need to talk about this lot.”  He waved his hand at the desk indicating what ‘this’ was.  “Our room is for not thinking about all this lot so I decided a hot meal at your desk would let us talk about it all and would put a proper meal inside you.  You’re not going to say no to me are you?” Lestrade winked at him as he finished talking and Mycroft smiled back with a real smile, almost taking Lestrade by surprise.

 

“A well-crafted plan Gregory.”

 

“I’m glad you approve Myc.”

 

 

 

The food arrived a few minutes later on the arms of two guards, both of whom Lestrade recognised so he nodded politely at them, and it was laid out on the desk as if it were a posh table in a restaurant.  Dinner was steak, cooked medium rare, boiled potatoes and asparagus with a small jug of peppercorn sauce on the side while dessert, which had been left on the side of the desk for them, was strawberry pavlova with extra jugs of cream to pour over should they wish to.

 

Mycroft looked at all the food like a kid at Christmas, surprised by the arrival of presents, and Lestrade felt his heart pull slightly with a mix of pride at getting it right and sadness that it seemed like such a surprise to his friend. 

 

“Did I do good?”  Lestrade asked with a smile in his voice and Mycroft looked up at him catching him with a look Lestrade had certainly never seen on him before.

 

“Did you pick this?”

 

“Yep” Lestrade nodded at him,

 

“This is amazing, how did you know?”

 

“How did I know you like steak or that you love pavlova or that extra cream was always the right thing to go with dessert?  I didn’t,” Lestrade winked, “It’s just my favourite so I picked it.”

 

“That is untrue Inspector, you would prefer a good seafood curry with rice followed by ice cream, mint choc chip if possible but strawberry if not.”

 

Lestrade’s mouth dropped open in shock and Mycroft’s face took on the smuggest of appearances at the reaction.

 

“How do… how did….”  Lestrade shook his head and gave up on forming the question of how did Mycroft know that because the answer, as always, was probably as simple as ‘because he’s Mycroft’ so instead he settled for, “Sherlock gave me lots of instructions when we decided I was coming with you and the foods I was most likely to be able to get you to stop work for and eat were high on his list of important things I needed to know about you.”

 

“Why would he?”  Mycroft started to ask but Lestrade cut him off with a simple answer.

 

“Because he loves you Mycroft.”

 

 

 

They ate in silence for a few minutes, both enjoying their steak and allowing their bodies to be warmed by the first warm food they’d eaten in days but eventually Mycroft broke the silence and Lestrade’s relaxed mood ebbed away.

 

“Did you interview the four management personnel this afternoon?”

 

“Nope, I told you they were designated a threat to human life and needed to be incarcerated accordingly, if you still want them interviewed tomorrow then you can do it yourself but I won’t be.”  Lestrade was trying for polite but he knew Mycroft wouldn’t miss the anger in his voice, Mycroft didn’t comment on the anger though.

 

“So none of them are suitable to take over running this establishment?”

 

“No.” it was short and to the point but it was all Lestrade could manage right now.

 

“Well none of the applications I have been sent have been of any hope to me, I’m beginning to wonder if I am going to be stuck here running this establishment myself.”

 

“You can’t do that!  The British government would never cope without your minor involvement.”  Lestrade winked at Mycroft as he said it and he would have called the look he got back shy if it had been from anyone else.  “What are you looking for in the new governor? Do you now?”

 

“I” Mycroft chewed slowly on a fine piece of steak while he thought about how to put what he wanted into words.  “I want someone who knows and cares about the rules but not more than they care about the people subjected to them.  I want someone who will notice if someone, even someone seemingly insignificant, starts behaving oddly or doing things they should not be doing and will watch, investigate and make sure that everything is ok.  I want someone who will stand and fight for what’s right even if it puts them at risk themselves and someone who will speak up about what is right, will treat humans as humans even though they have to be kept here for their or our safety and will do it all with care.”

 

“And, I’m guessing, someone with three degrees, extensive spy training and rich parents?”  Lestrade was aiming for joking but he was actually interested in whether these things really were required.

 

“Each of the thirty applications I have been sent so far meet your stated requirements but not mine and I have thrown them all away, make of that what you will.”

 

Lestrade studied Mycroft as they went back to eating their meal while turning over Mycroft’s requirements in his head and repeatedly coming back to the two men he’d seen in room 369 earlier that day.  James had not only noticed Michael’s odd behaviour in relation to his repeated disappearances but he’d thought to investigate and then to put himself on the line by committing a break in in such an establishment as this when Michael became unavailable for a task James didn’t even know what it was.  Add to that the thread thing and Lestrade was quite sure no person who ever worked with or for James would pull the wool over his eyes and then came Michael.  Michael kept to the rules but broke them just the same, he cared, loved and showed his love while knowing the barriers were there for good reason and needed to be respected.  It seemed in Lestrade’s head that between them they met all of Mycroft’s requirements in regard to management of the facility and absolutely none of the ones he’d assumed would be necessary.

 

“Would you give the job to a pleb then?”

 

“A what?” Mycroft had a look of distaste on his face and Lestrade didn’t know if it was at the word or at the concept.

 

“A pleb, you know, an uneducated, working class ruffian.  I met someone today who called himself a pleb, not heard the word in ages but it’s the one he used.  So would you?”

 

“If I could find someone who fit my requirements then I would employ them whatever distasteful term they wished to use for themselves.  Is this someone I should meet?”

 

Lestrade thought for a moment, not sure what the right answer to that was given the plans for after dinner but he settled on, “Maybe tomorrow.”  Which he followed with a change of subject, to something much less important, while they finished their meal.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Did you enjoy that?”

 

Mycroft was licking the last of the cream from his spoon having demolished his Pavlova with an enthusiasm that had Lestrade grinning both inside and out.

 

“It was delicious, I don’t normally allow myself dessert, my impending weight gain is probably why Sherlock suggested it to you but I do enjoy sweet things.”

 

“He did a sweet thing.”

 

“I meant the,” Lestrade cut him off,

 

“I know you meant the Pavlova but I didn’t.  He loves you you know, he might have almost forgotten that in the rewriting of his memories as a kid but he never really did, the love just never grew up, in his head it was still a five year old bickering with his nearly teenage brother.  Your relationship has grown up now, all of a sudden, and he wants to care and for you to know he does.  Steak, pavlova and keeping his eye on me here with you are his attempt to show you.”

 

Mycroft sat and considered what had been said for far longer than Lestrade was actually comfortable with the silence but he waited it out none the less.  Eventually Mycroft lifted his phone off the desk and tapped out a message, pressing send before putting it back on the desk and grinning at Lestrade when he gave him a look that asked all the questions.

 

“Dr Hooper should know of Sherlock’s long forgotten love of pancakes and ice cream don’t you think?” 

 

The mask had gone for just a second and without even studying him closely Lestrade could see the love and care Mycroft really held for Sherlock.  They might not be ready to talk the talk and as Lestrade knew more clearly than anyone else on earth they were never actually going to be able to hug and make up but that text was a step, a giant step, in bringing the two of them back together, that was, if what Lestrade was going to show Mycroft later didn’t cause him to drop dead in shock or cause him to take the next cell to Eurus after he’d slaughtered the entire management team who were still incarcerated below.

 

“Can I ask you something?  You don’t have to answer.”

 

“I am fully aware of my available choices,” Mycroft sounded like he was aiming for teasing but he wasn’t very good at it, “so ask anything you wish.”

 

“Ok,” Lestrade rolled his eyes dramatically. “There were two things really but the first was about the hand on the glass thing you did with Eurus, do you always do that? Well not always obviously because the glass wasn’t there before but before that?”

 

“Hand on the glass?”  Mycroft asked as if he had no idea what Lestrade was talking about.

 

“Yeah, when we went down at lunch time you went right up to the glass and put the palm of your hand on it, to start with I thought you were just checking it was still there but you didn’t move all the time you were talking to her and I wondered if you’d done it before and if her guards would have seen it?”

 

It was obvious that Mycroft was having to think about it because his response was very slow by his standards. “I think I used to yes, she used to come to the glass and do the same, I could feel the warmth of her hand through the glass when we talked.”  The memory seemed to be coming back as he spoke and his confused expression turned to a happy one before dropping to anger. “One day when I visited, after I hadn’t been allowed near for nearly eight months because she was ‘misbehaving’ the governor told me that they’d had to instigate a rule, three feet away from the glass, because of something Eurus had done, he told me if I went closer he would have me removed and I would not be allowed to return as rules needed to be rules so that the prisoners understood them.”  The faraway look in his eyes disappeared and he fixed on Lestrade’s eyes and Lestrade would have sworn that there were tears dancing on the edge on his vision.  “That’s when she’d taken over isn’t it? I couldn’t touch the glass because it wasn’t there.”

 

Lestrade’s mind raced between what he’d expected to hear, that being that Davies might well have been aware of Mycroft’s interactions with Eurus and may have tried to do the same with the baby, and the unexpected information that Mycroft had been present in Eurus’ cell, only three feet away from her and had never noticed the missing glass and the freedom to do as she pleased that that had given her. 

 

Mycroft missing something like that only served to help him understand how Sherlock had missed it as well.  The pull of the emotions and the love for their sister, despite what she’d done, had made them both blind to the world around them just as much as the barriers they both built in their brains, either through the rewriting of an entire childhood or by taking responsibility for everything and keeping everyone at just over arms reach away, had. 

 

“I guess so, yes.”

 

Mycroft put his head in his hands and looked down at the table for a second and Lestrade had to resist every urge his body knew to reach out and grab his hand to offer comfort or even, given the magnitude of this situation, to walk around the desk and put his arm around him but he knew, or at least almost knew, that either of those actions would only make matters worse.

 

“The other question,” Lestrade kept his voice low and gentle and hoped for a quick response from Mycroft, “is how far does the no touch rule go?”

 

Mycroft looked up just slightly and narrowed his eyes at Lestrade who quickly felt the need to explain.  “Don’t be cross with me, please.  Look, if I was sat across the table from anyone else and they looked as fucking dropped on and in pain as you do right now I’d have hold of their hand on the desk trying to show them that I care, that I’m here and hoping it would say all the things no bloke can ever put into words when their mate’s upset.  Or with a good mate I might even be sat on the edge of the desk next to you with my arm around your shoulder.  Both those things I’m fighting the urge to do right now because I know it wouldn’t give you comfort, in fact it would make it worse, but I need to know from you, if you can, how I can show that I care and how I can help make things better without touching you and making it all worse.”

 

“That.”  Mycroft dropped his head back into his hands “That is what you can do.”

 

“What is,” Lestrade felt bad asking another question but he was far too desperate to let it go.

 

“Tell me that you’d hold my hand if I’d let you, that you’d touch me if I’d allow it but that you won’t because you don’t have permission.  No one has ever done that, I’ve never been allowed to say no, never been given the choice.  That is what you can do to show you care and to make it all better.”

 

Lestrade had to swallow hard three times to clear his throat of emotion enough to speak and he wasn’t actually sure he’d managed it even then.  “Right then Mycroft,” Lestrade waited for Mycroft to look up at him, “please know that I’d wrap you in my arms right now until everything was better if I could but that I won’t because I don’t have your permission.”  Mycroft smiled slightly and a tear ran down from his eye “but also know that you can reach for me any time you want to and I will not turn you away.”


	7. Chapter 7

The conversation Lestrade had intended to have after dinner had been nothing like the one that had actually taken place.  He’d intended to explain carefully about the boy and try and make things as easy as possible for Mycroft but in the end all he’d managed was ‘we need to go to room 369 and meet a guy, I need you to see someone, it’ll be a shock, I’ll be there if you need anything, I’m sorry’ and now here they were outside the room with Michael walking towards them looking worried while Mycroft stood, a foot away from Lestrade who was working hard not to show any of his nervousness.

 

“Sir,” Michael extended his hand towards Lestrade and then to Mycroft “Mr Holmes”

 

“Michael,” Lestrade smiled at him confidently hoping that he would relax a little, “We’ll sit by the door like I did this morning, we won’t disturb you just do what you do okay?”

 

Michael nodded but still didn’t look happy.

 

“I promise, Mr Holmes takes surprises better than me.” He nodded towards the door and Michael opened it allowing Lestrade to walk through with Mycroft before he followed behind.

 

Lestrade moved to the side of the door, leaving enough space for Mycroft and then settled himself on the floor, motioning to Mycroft to do the same next to him.  Mycroft sat down a few inches away from Lestrade and stared at the glass and the small room behind, Lestrade couldn’t see the boy and he assumed he must be hiding behind the chair again which he was thankful for as it gave them time to settle into the room before the real shock came.

 

Michael sat down near the glass, taking his bag from his shoulder and pulling a pile of papers out of the top, before he placed his hand on the glass and started to sing quietly.  Mycroft noticed the hand instantly and looked at Lestrade as if he’d just worked out the reason for the earlier question but Lestrade gestured towards the glass and he turned his attention back just as the boy, tiny and pale but for a head of dark curls appeared from behind the chair.

 

Lestrade both heard and felt the whispered gasp of ‘Sherlock’ as Mycroft saw the boy and he smiled nervously at him and shushed quietly before Mycroft could say anything else.

 

The moment the boy saw Michael he grinned and sat down on his bottom to wave and Michael waved back.  Lestrade felt eyes on him, staring in a way only Holmes eyes could and it took him more than a few seconds to realise that it wasn’t Mycroft who was looking at him.  Mycroft was in fact receiving exactly the same look as he was from the boy.

 

Michael tapped the glass gently with his hand and the boy returned his focus to him and quickly crawled across the room, sitting himself in front of Michael and matching his hand with his.

 

What followed was an amazement to Lestrade, he’d thought this morning’s games had been impressive but this was something else. 

 

With his hand still on the glass and eyes locked on Michael the boy first stuck out his tongue before moving it to try and lick his own nose then his chin and then back to his nose.  Lestrade could only assume that he was copying Michael because from the back of his head he couldn’t be sure.  After a few attempts at licking his nose and chin he moved on to trying to lick his cheeks, left and right.  When he started to turn his head side to side as if that might make it easier Michael laughed and the boy laughed as well, making the cutest noise, before quickly turning his mouth into that of a fish and bob bob bobbing, stretching his mouth wider each time before finally sticking his tongue out again in an action that look so much like something Sherlock would do that Lestrade had to shake his head to clear the thought.

 

Mycroft moved closer to Lestrade, until they were in contact from shoulder to foot, and leaned his head forward slightly. Lestrade assumed that he was trying to find a better angle to see so he moved up himself to return the distance before cursing internally when he heard an almost sad sigh escape Mycroft’s mouth. 

 

Lestrade leaned back across the gap and whispered in Mycroft’s ear, “Sorry, I’m an idiot, I won’t move again.” but Mycroft didn’t move, he did nod just slightly though.

 

Michael moved to sitting on his knees, a position quickly mirrored by the boy, and he slid his hands higher causing the boy to reach and stretch to maintain contact. The boy lifted his bottom from his heels to kneel up straighter to reach Michael’s hands and then tried to push up with one foot, towards a standing position, not that he managed it but his muscles gave it a good try, first with his left foot and then with his right.  Lestrade noticed that Michael never lost ‘contact’ with the boy, although he pushed the limits of his reach, and he was sure that the boy received a smile, a grin or a funny face in return for his efforts because he seemed to be mimicking them.

 

Suddenly Michael threw himself down on his back and started kicking his feet up in the air like a beetle and the boy laughed his lovely little laugh and toppled himself backwards and joined him in kicking.  After a couple of minutes of kicking and laughing Michael suddenly sat up, crossing his legs and facing the glass and the whole scene took on a more serious air.

 

Lestrade felt Mycroft tense a few inches away from him and he grasped his fingers harder around his elbows to stop himself reaching out to try and calm him but he relaxed a second later when he felt Mycroft cross the gap once again and bring himself up against his side, this time he didn’t move away and instead enjoyed the feeling of Mycroft relaxing against him.

 

For the next twenty minutes they sat together and watched as Michael played against the glass, drawing and writing things and holding up pictures of animals and shapes against the glass while writing their names, backwards Lestrade noticed so that the boy was writing them the right way as he followed Michael’s finger with his own, before he wrote the words ‘I love you’ on the glass, drew a large love heart, and blew a kiss at the boy who blew one back.

 

Eventually the boy yawned and began to rub his eyes and Lestrade noticed Mycroft’s smile as they watched Michael mimic the actions and then he used his finger to beckon the boy closer.  Mycroft stopped breathing and Lestrade could hear his heart beating faster as they watch the boy move towards the window and lay his cheek against the glass where it was warmed by the contact of Michael’s hand.

 

The “Eurus did that” that whispered from Mycroft’s lips brought tears to Lestrade’s eyes and he had to work hard to stop them from falling down his cheeks.

 

The boy sat for a moment, resting against the warmth, and then got to his knees and crawled over to his bed, curling up and pulling the blanket up over himself.  Michael repacked his bag, hiding away the evidence of the game, and stood up, stepping backwards from the glass towards the light switch and, having waved one last time at the boy, he switched the lights out in the cell and opened the room door ready to leave.

 

Lestrade and Mycroft climbed up from the floor, something Mycroft did far more elegantly than Lestrade, and they stepped through the door after Michael before he locked it behind them.  Mycroft couldn’t speak, or even look at anyone, so Lestrade shook Michael’s hand, and asked him when he would be back in the morning.

 

“I’m allowed five minutes at five am, to change his nappy and check on his food, and then an hour at 8am before I start my real job.”

 

“ok then, we need to meet sometime tomorrow, to talk properly, but for now, go to bed and thank you again for looking after the baby.”

 

“It’s no bother Sir, he’s adorable.”

 

Michael walked away down the corridor whistling the song he shared with the boy as Mycroft stalked off in the other direction, wasting no time in making it up the stairs and in through the door of their room and he’d disappeared into the bathroom before Lestrade managed to catch him.

 

Returning from the bathroom Mycroft said nothing as he crawled under his covers, putting his back to Lestrade, and pulled them up under his chin closing his eyes.

 

“I’ll set the alarm for 4.30 shall I?”

 

Mycroft didn’t respond but Lestrade set the alarm anyway before changing in to his pyjamas, climbing into bed and turning off the light.


	8. Chapter 8

“Come on!”

The alarm had gone off only two minutes ago but Mycroft was already up and dressed and demanding Lestrade get up.

“You can shower on our return, before we go back at eight, just put on some clothes!”

“I’m coming,” Lestrade yawned and stretched and then rolled out of bed, grabbing his bag and running to the bathroom.

 

A cat on a hot tin roof was all Lestrade could think of as he watched Mycroft rock foot to foot, pace back and forth slightly and jig up and down like a small child doing a ‘wee-wee’ dance as they waited outside room 369.

“He’ll be here in a minute Mycroft,” At hearing his name Mycroft seemed to come back to himself a little and Lestrade watched as, more slowly than he’d seen before, the strong, sturdy, protective mask of Mr Mycroft Holmes, Government official, slipped over him, schooling his face, straightening his shoulder, flattening his waistcoat and jacket and bringing his heels together on the floor with almost a click.

Lestrade would have been impressed if he hadn’t come to hate the blank, locked away, look on his friend quite as much as he did.

“If you need me I’ll be right here Okay?” Lestrade offered and Mycroft nodded curtly but kept his eyes on the corridor where he expected Michael to appear from in just a few moments.

“Sir, Mr Holmes,” Michael strode towards them with a smile, “I didn’t know if you’d come now or just later, I’ll only be a few minutes with him this time although I am allowed past the glass. I really don’t…” 

Michael stopped mid-sentence but Mycroft knew what the end of it was so he replied to that. “We will take our position by the door and merely observe for now, please do not change what you do.”

“Right then,”

Michael unlocked the door and walked through holding it open for the others. Lestrade sat down against the wall a short distance away from the door and was almost surprised when Mycroft left no space between them as he sat down and instead seemed to rest into his side. Once they were settled Michael turned the lights up gently and then disappeared through a door on their side of the glass and reappeared through a small door on the other side. He was moving slowly and quietly as he took down the water bottle and the biscuits from the middle of the room, taking them out through the door before bringing back what looked like a bottle with milk in and a bowl of cereal which he place on the yellow triangle that was marked on the floor. 

Leaving the room again Michael returned with a towel and a blanket in his hand and nappies and baby wipes under his arm. Having first laid the blanket on the floor, Michael began to sing the song they’d heard him use before and the boy’s eyes started to flicker and he stretched his arms as he opened his eyes and looked at Michael. 

He didn’t smile this time, and Lestrade noticed that Michael wasn’t smiling back but the boy crawled out of his bed and across the floor to the blanket where he laid himself down, legs towards Michael, and Michael handed him the towel which the boy put over his face and chest. Quickly Michael undid the boy’s nappy, wiped him clean with the baby wipes and slipped a new nappy under him, fastening it securely. All the time the boy kept his face and chest covered.

Lestrade felt Mycroft’s tension, and the tremor of his body against his side and he leaned his mouth closer to his ear, “I would hold you if I could but I promise that I won’t.” The sudden release of tension against his side made him want to smile and cry all at the same time but most of all it made him want to help his friend more than ever. “We’ll sort this, I promise.”

Once the nappy was changed they’d both expected Michael to leave immediately but he didn’t instead he tapped the towel, right where the boy’s nose would be, and the boy lifted the towel from his face and received the widest of grins from Michael which he returned with a little giggle before pulling the towel back up. A few seconds later the boy repeated the action and again was rewarded with a grin that caused a giggle.

“Peek-a-boo without talking to him.” Mycroft gasped in a whisper at Lestrade who smiled and nodded.

The pair played for a few minutes and then Michael caught the edge of the towel as the boy lifted it and, having smiled at him, he nodded towards the food on the floor and the boy quickly scrambled to his knees and crawled to the triangle on the floor before sitting down on his bottom and happily tucking in to his breakfast. 

Michael picked up his things from the floor and headed back to the door, reappearing on Mycroft and Lestrade’s side of the glass, and waved bye-bye to the boy who blew a kiss at him before grabbing his bottle of milk and rolling over on to his back to drink it, as they all got up quickly and left the room.

Once again Mycroft didn’t speak as they left the room so Lestrade thanked Michael, and sent him on his way, before silently escorting Mycroft back to their room.

 

Lestrade had made cereal with milk, fruit with yogurt and some strong black coffee for them both, as well as taking a very quick shower and putting on his ‘work clothes’ in a room that was silent but for the noise of Mycroft’s thinking and by seven o’clock he was sure that the walls of the room were going to collapse in on them if someone didn’t speak soon.

“Look,” he crouched down on the floor in front of where Mycroft was sat on the bed, with his head in his hands, and met his eyes, “I can’t take this silence anymore, I’m worried about you.”

Mycroft closed his eyes and took a deep breath before sitting up, squaring his shoulders and looking at Lestrade with his cold work stare and a smile that looked nothing like one. “There is no need to worry about me inspector.”

Anger was the wrong word for what Lestrade felt at that moment. The desire to grab Mycroft by both shoulders and shake him for ‘inspectoring’ him right now wasn’t because he was angry it was because he desperately wanted to shake his friend out of his iceman armour, but his voice obviously didn’t know that because when he spoke, or more like shouted, he made both of them jump. “I don’t have an ounce of worry about Mr fucking Holmes I just wish he’d give me Mycroft back so we can sort this shit out rather than him suffer in silence like he normally does!”

“Who do you think you are inspector, standing there separating me out into different people? I am who I am and that is just me!” Mycroft was trying to sound convincing but Lestrade was sure he must be able to hear the doubt in his own voice.

Lestrade stepped away, moving to the other side of the room, afraid that he might actually shake the man if he stayed too close.

“I’m the guy you call Inspector every time things get too hard and you want me to back off. I’m Greg who cares for you and wants you to be ok, I’m a detective inspector who just found out four government guys have locked a baby in a cell without anything or anyone just to protect their own skin and that those same four guys were prepared to let that baby starve to death rather than tell anyone about him. I’m Greg who’s known you and your brother for nearly ten years and can’t believe that you’ve made it through all you have during that time never mind what I now know happened before. I’m a detective who knows that you, your brother, his friends and now your sister have murdered, hurt, threatened and kidnapped people all in the name of Holmes and I’m Greg who will happily overlook it all because you’re my friend, I care for you and I want to help you through the shit you’ve been left in and be there while you work out just who Mycroft is without all the shit the world has laid on your shoulders when it should have been left elsewhere.” 

Lestrade stopped to take a breath because he was fairly sure he’d pass out if he didn’t, “Don’t accuse me of separating you out into different people when you do that to me all the time and don’t accuse me of that when I’d happily see you just as Myc, the guy who smiles, laughs, relaxes and loves himself and the guy I’m pretty sure lives somewhere in there if the world would just let you find him.”

Mycroft’s mouth was hanging open when Lestrade looked back at him and the hurt and pain in his eyes made Lestrade want to hug it all better. 

“And I’m Greg,” The words were quieter now and much calmer, “Who would like nothing more than to do something to stop that hurt in your eyes but who can’t because some bastard got to you years ago, before I could do anything, and hurt you more than I can ever fix.” Greg sat down on his bed, dropping his head into his hands breathing deeply and the silence stretched before he looked up, once again seeing the pain and confusion on Mycroft’s face. “Look, I’m sorry, that was all totally uncalled for, sorry, I’ll leave you be.”

Lestrade got up and made for the door, intent on heading to the office but Mycroft reached out and caught his arm as he passed, 

“Don’t go Gregory. Sit with me, please?”

Mycroft didn’t say please often so when he did, and coupled it with touch, Lestrade was never going to say no to him so he sat down next to him and waited, hoping he wasn’t going to get shouted at. 

They sat for almost two minutes with Mycroft making a few attempts to start talking but not getting past the deep breath stage so Lestrade spoke instead. “I’m really sorry for shouting, it just got too much to keep in, I wasn’t shouting at you really it’s the situation not you I’m cross with.”

“I’m sorry for my use of inspector Gregory, it was uncalled for. Your care for me, for Sherlock and for the boy has been beyond anything I have ever experienced, people do not care for me, not really, it is outside my understanding.”

“Until now maybe,” Lestrade turned slightly towards Mycroft and caught his eye. “But you will get used to it.”

“I’ll try,” he tried to smile, but it was obviously hard work, so instead he slipped his hand across the small gap between them and rested it on Lestrade’s knee. “I promise I’ll try.”

Lestrade watched him carefully trying to decide if he dared and in the end he took the leap and for the first time he responded to Mycroft’s touch by putting his hand on top. He didn’t squeeze it, he just laid his hand on top and Mycroft didn’t flinch and made no attempt to move away so he left his hand there as they continued to talk.

“How much do you still need to sort out in this place? But for the boy of course.”

“I’ve finished with the paperwork and procedures, How are your interviews going?”

“I’ve spoken to everyone I’m prepared to talk to, I’ll join you in meeting with the four still locked up to find out more about the boy if you wish but my classification of them won’t change, they’re arseholes.”

Mycroft laughed and Lestrade smiled at him.

“I need to speak with Michael, once I know what he knows I can decide if I need to speak to those men. I do need a new management team though, we can’t leave until that is sorted, which reminds me, you had an idea. Someone I should meet.”

“Well, er, yeah, I did have a thought, two actually, they were daft thoughts though, you won’t like them.”

“Honestly Gregory, you haven’t yet had a bad idea in all this, even if I’ve told you you have.” Mycroft looked at Lestrade, and really looked at him, reading his eyes and watching him closely, “You meant Michael didn’t you? Follows rules but breaks them, knows things have to be like they are but makes the best of them for the people they’re responsible for.” Mycroft looked and thought for another minute. “Tell me about the person who stopped him starving while we had Michael locked up, what was he like?”

“The other half of the pair,” Lestrade smiled. “Many months ago he noticed Michael was behaving strangely, he worked out where he was going although not what he was doing there and when all this kicked off he thought to check that someone was still going. He set a trap to check and when they weren’t he broke in to Michael’s room to get the keys and did what he could to look after the little one until Michael came back. I should probably tell you that Michael risked his life for the boy as well, refusing to answer my questions until I took him to see him and then threatening to kill me because I scared him.”

The mention of ‘threatening to kill’ had Mycroft on his feet, hands in fists by his sides, looking like he was going straight out of the door.

“Stop!” Lestrade jumped to his feet and got between Mycroft and the door. “I scared the boy, the poor little thing had been without Michael for well over a day and I shouted in shock, far too loudly when I saw him and his curls. He threatened me because I deserved it. We need him.”

“Sorry, yes, sorry.” Mycroft relaxed slightly and sat back on the bed. “It takes a man of some character to stand up to someone with as much power as you had over him, rather reminiscent of John when I first met him.” Mycroft grinned, a real happy thought grin and Lestrade smiled at him enjoying watching him relax more as he did it. “I think we should meet with Michael after his next session with the boy and find out all he knows and then I will consider your suggestions in regard to the new governor.”

“That sounds like a plan, but can we have a coffee before we go?”

“I think that would be a good idea, I suspect we are in for a long day.”


	9. Chapter 9

Each session was a school day, or at least that’s how it was beginning to appear to Lestrade.  The first one he’d seen yesterday lunchtime had at first sight, simply been two people who had been kept apart for far too long coming back together.  It was clear from how their hands never parted from the glass and all the hearts and smiles that they had both drawn that Michael was trying to apologise and reconnect with the boy but thinking harder Lestrade remembered the shapes and words and writing that had been done on the glass. 

 

Last night’s session had been PE, working muscles that the boy would need later if he was to be released from his prison even though he wasn’t allowed to use them now, followed by maths and English and then bedtime ‘cuddles’ as much as you could cuddle through glass, and settling to bed.

 

Now, at the 8am morning session, Michael and the boy were crawling up and down either side of the glass, mirroring each other, and lying on their backs kicking their feet and at one point, in something that seemed to have been started by the boy not by Michael, they were both bent in two looking at each other through their legs and laughing loudly.

 

Lestrade watched from his position on the floor by the door and he smiled and laughed quietly at the antics while trying to watch Mycroft next to him without being caught in the looking.  He knew that was impossible but he was also fairly sure Mycroft wouldn’t pull him up on being caught.

 

Time passed quickly and as the clock on the wall ticked to ten to nine Michael stretched his arms up and gave a yawn, the signal for time up, but instead of copying Michael the boy sat down in front of him, and stared over his shoulder, pointing at the other two men in the room.   Lestrade froze and he heard Mycroft’s breath hitch and felt his whole body tense against him at the look but Michael remained relaxed and turned to smile at them cautiously.

 

Mycroft nodded almost imperceptibly so Lestrade did the same and Michael turned back to the boy, putting his finger on the glass before turning to point at Lestrade, where the boy’s eyes followed, and then putting his finger back on the glass.  The boy watched carefully as Michael slowly drew a big smile on the glass with his finger before pointing it back at Lestrade and the boy followed the movement until he was looking Lestrade in the eye.

 

It was the first time Lestrade had really looked at the features of the boy and, as he tried not to flinch away from the entirely Holmesion examination he was getting from the boy he noticed that although the curly hair on his head shouted Sherlock at the top of its voice the features of the face and the intensity of the eyes were entirely Mycroft and as he realised that he was no longer nervous in the face of it.  If this little boy wanted to read him inside and out then he was happy to sit there and let him.

 

The examination lasted a little under two minutes and then suddenly the boy was back to asking Michael questions and pointing at Mycroft.  Michael gave the same pointing finger indications to the boy but this time when he returned his finger to the glass he drew a large love heart instead of a smile and the boy narrowed his eyes at Michael so he did it again and then gestured back towards Mycroft.

 

Lestrade was almost sure Mycroft hadn’t taken a breath for the last five minutes, and the tension against his side coupled with the slight tremble he could feel had him very worried.  “you ok” he whispered and, although he didn’t speak or seem to breathe, Mycroft nodded just slightly and that was enough to calm Lestrade.

 

The boy crawled a little away from Michael, until he could see Mycroft without looking over Michael’s shoulder and then he sat down on his bottom, placed the palm of his hand on the glass and watched.  On a person older than fourteen months Lestrade would have said he had a look of challenge on his face but as he was a baby, even if a Holmes baby, Lestrade assumed he was imagining it.

 

Mycroft and the boy sat staring at each other for at least ten beats of Lestrade’s heart before it speeded up suddenly when he noticed Mycroft move from sitting on his bottom to crawling on hands and knees towards the glass where he sat down, right in front of the boy, and met his hand on the glass.

 

They sat, looking and studying each other, eyes locked and clearly communicating in their own special way, and neither moved until Michael’s watch made a noise, which he tried his best to cut off, and the boy turned and crawled away, disappearing behind the chair in the corner, leaving Mycroft sat staring at the space he’d just left.

 

Lestrade jumped to his feet and was at Mycroft’s side within a second, trying to head off any chance of Michael touching his shoulder or arm to show support as people are given to do in emotional situations, “I’ll give you a hand up if you want.” It was on offer of support without expectation and he hoped Mycroft would hear it that way.

 

Mycroft turned slowly and then reached for Lestrade’s hand, allowing him to pull him up off the floor, and then he rested his hand on his shoulder for just a moment, while he recovered his balance, before they all left the room quickly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I would suggest that we all take twenty minutes for refreshments Mr Davies, we will then meet you in my office.”

 

It wasn’t a question, merely a polite order, but Michael nodded as if he had a choice in agreeing and hurried off down the corridor towards the refectory.

 

“Our room or your office?”  Lestrade asked the question knowing that the answer would give him a clear indication of how the next fifteen minutes were going to be spent.

 

“Our room I think, don’t you?”

 

Lestrade nodded and they set off at almost a run, both eager to close the door on this hellhole for a few minutes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Mr Davies, come in.”

 

Mycroft greeted Michael at his office door and invited him to sit on the comfy sofa in the corner while he took the armchair and Lestrade stood by the window.  The less formal set up clearly threw Michael off balance a little so Mycroft offered to move to the desk.  “I am sorry if my attempts to treat you informally have made you uncomfortable, we can sit either side of my desk if you wish, I was simply hoping for a chat about my nephew rather than you feeling that it was an interrogation.”

 

“No, no, it’s fine Mr Holmes, It’s just I’m … well … it’s not like I’m important around here, I’ve only been in this office once before and that’s when I was threatened by the governor.  I’ve not got great memories of this place.”  Michael smiled but it wasn’t as convincing as the many they’d seen directed at the boy over the last twenty four hours, Mycroft decided to move forward with the conversation anyway.

 

“When did he threaten you?”

 

“Well, you know I was one of Ms Holmes’ guards,” Mycroft nodded, “Well I noticed her…”  Michael stumbled on his words so Mycroft filled in the gap,

 

“Condition?”

 

“Yeah, her condition, she was getting bigger around the belly and I noticed her singing and rubbing her tummy and it was just like my mum did when she was pregnant with my little sister.  I went to the medical guy and he told me not to be so stupid but two days later I was told that I was the only guard Ms Holmes would have now, that no one else was allowed in, that no visitors would be coming and that if I told anyone I would be assigned to the cannibal wing and they’d give them the keys.”

 

“She missed you Mr Holmes, She used to stand against the glass on her own as if imagining you were there you know, and then, one day, she asked me to talk to her.  I know I shouldn’t have and I know that the rules are anyone who interacted with her needs locking up for other people’s safety but all she did was draw pictures, and words and smiles, I promise.”

 

Lestrade stepped away from the window and sat down next to Michael, “We believe you, don’t worry.”

 

“Thank you Sir,” Michael nodded at Lestrade and then at Mycroft, receiving a glimpse of a smile in return so he continued to talk.  “When the baby was born, she screamed and cried and begged for her baby but she stopped the moment they handed him to me.  She looked at me as if she could speak right to my brain and tell me to look after him and I have.  No days off, no holidays, no breaks.   First it was at threat from the governor but after the boy came it was because I’d promised to care for him for her and she’d shown me everything she could to help me do it.”

 

“Did she name him?”  Lestrade was quite uncomfortable about the fact that the child kept being called the boy so he couldn’t resist the question.

 

“I don’t think so, well not really.”

 

“what do you mean not really?”

 

“Well she didn’t say he had a name but before he was born she kept writing two names on the glass when we were ‘talking’ and I sort of see him with one of those when I think about him and play with him.  I don’t think he even exists really so he probably doesn’t have a name.”

 

“What was the name my sister gave you for him?”

 

“It was Frazer Sir, as the other name she kept writing was a girl’s name I just assumed that’s what they were for.”

 

Lestrade really wanted to ask what the girls name was but he was cut off by Mycroft, “Well then, Frazer Michael Holmes it is, I will ensure Anthea registers him as soon as she knows about him.”

 

Michael looked confused and his eyes flicked to Lestrade almost as if he hoped he’d be able to answer the question but Lestrade simply shrugged.  Mycroft was far too aware not to notice the look and to know what the question was so he answered it anyway. “Frazer because his mother wanted that, Michael after the man who saved his life and Holmes because, for better or for worse, he’s one of us.”

 

“I didn’t really save his life, I just did what anyone would.”

 

“No you did not Michael.”  Mycroft assumed all the air and flare of the man who people did not argue with, “You could have followed the rules and left that child to waste away, you could have fed him and changed his nappy and left him to his cell and watched the life and light leave him but you didn’t, you haven’t, you’ve kept him alive inside and out.  You saved his life and he will always know that.”

 

Michael opened his mouth as if he was going to argue but Lestrade shook his head at him and nodded his agreement to what Mycroft had said.

 

“Right to other topics,” Mycroft stood up and walked towards his desk picking up a pad of paper and a pen.  “Can you draw me the pictures you share with Frazer, you drew one thing for me and a different one for the inspector and Frazer knew what they meant, I’d like to learn his language.”

 

“I can Sir,” Michael reached for the offered pad, “but they all came from his mum so I assume originally from you.  Anyway this,” Michael drew a smiley face, “is what I drew for the inspector, it means friend or nice person or something nice and,” here Michael paused to label the smile and then to draw a large love heart in the middle of another sheet, “this means love or family.  It’s what his mum used to draw next to the names and what I draw when I show him pictures of her.”  Suddenly Michael went white as a sheet and Lestrade grabbed his shoulder fearing he was going to collapse onto the floor.

 

“I’m guessing you weren’t supposed to do that?” Lestrade asked gently and Michael shook his head, his whole body shaking.

 

“Well from now on,” Michael looked at Mycroft as he started to speak and was clearly terrified, not that Mycroft seemed to have noticed, “the heart symbol is the one to be used for the inspector as well as for myself and his mother, I will also endeavour to acquire photographs of Sherlock, John and Rosie and if possible Mrs Hudson and Dr Hooper.  He will need to know his family when we finally get him out of here and I think it would be best for you to introduce people to him, even if just in photographs.  He trusts you and that is important if we are to move Frazer to the outside world without damage.”

 

Two confused faces looked at Mycroft as he finished speaking and it seemed to amuse him because he smiled, a real actual smile at them both, something Lestrade had not seen in the presence of another person in the entire time he’d known the man, and he offered a mere sentence in explanation.

 

“Rules should sometimes be broken and family is not always blood.”


	10. Chapter 10

“I’m going to get him and you can’t stop me!”

 

Lestrade wasn’t sure quite how he’d managed to get Mycroft out of room 369, along the corridor, up the stairs, along another corridor to their room, in through the door, minding not to fall over the box of food left in the door way, and close the door behind them without speaking or touching him but he was glad they’d made it before Mycroft let go of his control and shouted at him.

 

“Like hell I can’t!  Michael says that”

 

Lestrade glared at Mycroft as he interrupted him,

 

“I don’t care what Michael says, who is he to tell me what to do?  What does he know about anything anyway?”

 

“What does the guy you’ve spent all of today interviewing and then decided to put in charge of this place know about anything?”  Lestrade glared at Mycroft, he hadn’t felt this angry in years.  “Well I guess, given you’re a genius and all, that you thought he knew a whole heap before he wouldn’t let you do what you wanted to.”

 

“It is not up to him,” Mycroft took a step forward, meeting Lestrade’s glare with one of his own. “That boy is my nephew, I will not just leave him like that, no child should ever be left like that!”

 

“You’ve not just left him,” Lestrade shook himself to release the tension in an attempt to calm his voice,  “he’s with Michael, he’s safe, that’s what he’s used to not you and me.”

 

“How can he be safe when he is crying and screaming like that and we all just have to sit there watching him through the glass? How can a baby be ok when no one picks him up and cuddles him? That is what he needs, that is what children need and I am going back to him to do just that.”

 

Lestrade positioned himself in the door way, pulling on his best policeman stance and growled at him, “You will have to get through me first!”

 

“Do you think you could stop me inspector?” The air of Holmes condescension didn’t help Lestrade’s anger cool any.  “Whatever you think of me you must know that I was well trained by my uncle.”

 

“Shut up about your fucking uncle,” Lestrade would never stop being amazed by how much he could hate a man he had never met and was never going to meet simply because he had hurt the man in front of him when he was too young to protect himself.  “Trained or not you are not going back to that room right now, I won’t let you.”

 

Mycroft took a step towards Lestrade who stiffened his shoulders just a little more.

 

“You have spent all day interviewing Michael and watching him play with Frazer, you even took him to see how he interacted with Eurus and you saw her communicate with him in a way she hasn’t with anyone since she got back.”

 

“She is my sister!  And he is my nephew and I will not have anyone tell me what to do with them anymore!”

 

Lestrade took a breath, everything suddenly made sense and his heart broke just slightly despite his anger, he glared at Mycroft, looking him straight in the eye as he delivered his next words forcefully while trying to hold his own heart together.

 

“You, Mycroft Holmes, … are … jealous!”  He separated the words out and watched the fire in Mycroft’s eyes as he heard them, “You are fucking jealous of Michael and his relationship with your sister and her son.  Nothing more, nothing less, just straight forward jealousy.”

 

“I am NOT jealous, how dare you accuse me of such a thing inspector? Who do you think you are speaking to me like that?”

 

“You, Mr Holmes, are a jealous, foot stamping, twelve year old who just wants his family back and for people to stop telling him he can’t have them.  I get it, I do, you should never, ever have been told that by anyone but right now, unlike your fucking uncle, who was a complete and total wanker, and your parents who weren’t much fucking better, Michael is right!”

 

Mycroft visibly flinched at the mention of his parents but quickly recovered his anger.

 

“He is not!  Frazer has been crying and screaming for almost an hour and he has done nothing, absolutely nothing!”

 

“He’s sent us away so he can try and calm him, that it not nothing.  Can you imagine what must be going on in that kids head? He’s seen no one but Michael in fourteen months, then Michael disappears and James turns up, probably getting everything wrong and when Michael comes back he brings these other guys with him, tells him they’re family and encourages him to play with them and all in the space of twenty four hours.  I think I’d be crying if someone flooded my head with so much new information and I’m not a bloody baby.”

 

“But,” much of the fight had gone out of Mycroft’s voice which was a relief to Lestrade who relaxed his shoulders slightly “he should go in there and pick him up and cuddle him.  If he cared for him that is what he would do, bugger the rules, he would cuddle him.  That is all I wanted to do, he was crying, he needed someone.”

 

“You,” Lestrade caught Mycroft’s eye and tried to look calm and caring, “more than anyone else in the world must know what a bad idea that would be.”

 

As calm as he’d seemed ten seconds ago the fire returned to Mycroft’s eyes at that and Lestrade didn’t miss the flex of his hands, fight ready, and the change in his stance.

 

“What do you mean by that?!”

 

“I mean,” Lestrade kept tight control of his words, he knew this situation could get very bad very quickly if he misspoke “Frazer has never been held, not in his remembrance, and hardly been touched at all, he’s spent a day being mentally flooded with information which has left him unable to cope and feeling overwhelmed.  You must see that to add unexpected physical input to that would not be a comfort to him and would more than likely make things worse.”

 

“But he is a BABY!”  Mycroft was shouting again “And I AM going to cuddle him, you will not stop me and neither will Michael, he’s my family and he needs me and I’m going.”

 

In a split second Lestrade decided that there was only one thing he could do to make his point and it didn’t matter if he’d promised never to do it.

 

“You, Mycroft Holmes, are a fully grown man who is scared shitless of being touched even by and probably especially by those who love you, so before you walk out this door and do what you’re so sure is right for that boy try this on for size.”

 

With that Lestrade crossed the gap between them and, before Mycroft could react, he wrapped both arms around his back and pulled him into the tightest hug he could manage.

 

When he made the decision Lestrade had been prepared for a knee in the groin, a punch to the temple or a head-butt to the nose, he’d just broken the most important promise he’d made to the man after all, what he wasn’t prepared for in anyway was for Mycroft’s whole body to turn to jelly in his arms, for a face wet with tears to snuggle close into his neck and for two strong hands to come up around his back and tangle into his shirt pulling him closer.

 

“Shit Myc! I’m sorry.”


	11. Chapter 11

Mycroft woke fully clothed, curled up on his side on top of the covers, with an unusual warmth against his back, a weighty arm around his waist and soft fingers against his side.  He moved just slightly as he woke and the arm began to move and the warmth against his back started rolling away but he managed to grab the hand before it left him completely and gently encourage it back into place. 

 

He could feel the tension in Lestrade, now that they were awake, so he didn’t hold him there long, in fact he let him go with a laugh when Lestrade’s stomach rumbled loudly, reminding them both that they’d collapsed into sleep without supper last night, so, having climbed off the bed and straightened his suit, he lifted the lid of the box in search of breakfast.

 

Lestrade shuffled up the bed, until he was sat leaning against the headboard and he watched Mycroft as he put the kettle on to boil and set about spooning fruit into two bowls.

 

“I’m really sorry you know,”

 

Mycroft swung round with a look of complete confusion.  “Sorry? Whatever for?”

 

Lestrade rubbed hard at his forehead, “I promised I’d never touch you without permission and I shouldn’t have broken that promise just to make a point, I’m sorry.  I won’t ever do it again.”

 

Mycroft turned back to the breakfast before he replied “What if I might like you too?”

 

It took a moment for Lestrade’s brain to process the question and another two for him to form an answer in which time Mycroft had handed him his fruit and turned away again to organise the cereal.

 

“If you ask me to I will but never again without permission, I promise, not that that means much I know.”

 

“We can’t spend the rest of our lives asking each other’s permission for a hug.”

 

It was said in Mycroft’s trademark ‘don’t be an idiot’ voice and Lestrade’s mouth gaped open at the words and at the blush of red that ran up Mycroft’s neck to the tips of his ears when he’d realised what he’d just said.

 

“We … erm … what?”

 

“Sorry, forget I said that, your plan sounds like a good one, no need to apologise for last night, you made your point very well,”

 

The words were hurried and nervous and, to Lestrade’s ears, simply adorable.  He reached his hand out towards Mycroft, laying it palm up on the bed inviting him to meet it but not demanding it and when he did he smiled at him, enjoying the shy eyes he got in return.  “Not forever maybe, but for now Ok?”

 

Mycroft sat down on the bed, nodded and squeezed Lestrade’s hand in agreement before he leant back against the headboard next to him and they ate a very welcome breakfast in a very comfortable silence.

 

 

 

 

 

“Mr Holmes,” Michael walked towards them, in the corridor outside the governor’s office, and greeted them far more politely than Lestrade had expected after the events of the night before.  They’d decided against attending room 369 at five am and at eight and had instead decided to meet Michael outside his new office after he’d finished with Frazer so that they could discuss what had happened and make some plans.

 

“Mycroft, not Mr Holmes, Mr Davies,”  In that simple statement Lestrade could hear just how much Mycroft wanted Michael to know that he trusted him in his new role as Governor, and how sorry he was for last night and he hoped Michael could hear it as well, which he clearly did as he smiled warmly and offered his hand,

 

“Then it’s Michael not Mr Davies Mycroft.”  Mycroft took the offered hand and shook it before Michael turned his attention to Lestrade with a grin, “And you are?”

 

“Lestrade to most people Mr Davies, although I range from Detective inspector to Greg and back to Gregory depending on who’s talking to me so anything will do.”

 

“Ok then Lestrade, it’s Michael.”  Lestrade shook his hand and then they all stood silently and uncomfortably in the corridor looking at each other waiting for someone to speak.  Eventually Lestrade decided he’d had enough of the stupidity of the other two men.

 

“Well we can’t stand here all day waiting for one of you to get a grip on who’s in charge can we?  So Michael, can we all go into your office and sort out what the hell we’re going to do with Frazer and what on-going supervision is going to be happening here?”

 

“My office?” Michael looked confused, “Surely these are your offices until you leave.”

 

“You are incorrect Michael.”  Lestrade couldn’t take his eyes from Mycroft’s face, there were so many thoughts and feelings playing there, in the secret space behind the mask.  “This is your office, you are in charge, you know what we need to do next so please may we use your office for the discussion?”

 

It took Michael a few seconds to respond, seconds Lestrade was sure he’d used to consider and accept the real meaning of Mycroft’s words, but eventually he stepped towards his office door, slipping his key in the lock and opening it, before stepping though and holding the door for the other two to follow.  “You two take the sofa, I’ll call for coffee.”

 

 

Coffee arrived almost instantly. Mycroft was happy to see the staff react well to Michael’s requests, his only lingering concern about appointing someone from the ranks to be governor was how the staff would take to it but Michael’s pleasant manner seemed to be winning out right now.

 

“It is my intention to send you administration support, for both yourself and James, once I return to my usual position, this will be only short term and only to support you in …” Mycroft paused trying to find the right words but struggling. “I think ‘getting up to speed’ is the term people use.”

 

Michael smiled and Lestrade almost laughed at the obvious disgust in Mycroft’s voice as the words passed his lips.

 

“Yeah, I think that’s what they call it, thanks that would be useful, it’s all a bit of a change for me.”

 

Mycroft nodded.  “Please do not think that I am questioning your abilities Michael, I am confident of Gregory’s assessment of you and of my own and the administrative support I send will be very short term.  I wish you to appoint your own personnel as soon as you feel settled and are sure as to what you require.”

 

“It’s fine Sir,”

 

Mycroft sat straighter and looked at Michael before raising his eyebrow accusingly.

 

“Sorry,” Michael laughed uncomfortably, “It’s fine Mycroft,” Mycroft removed his almost glare and relaxed back in his seat. “I assume that there will be visits to keep an eye on the place going forward, will I know about them or will they be surprise or are they so surprise that you can’t tell me?”

 

Michael grinned and Lestrade chuckled and Mycroft shook his head and almost rolled his eyes.  “I will visit Eurus often, I suspect Sherlock will visit her more often than I do and Gregory may well take a turn about the island sometimes.  It is likely that full inspections will take place at times and I cannot rule out surprise inspections, it would be wrong of me to do so however much I trust you, I’m sure you understand.”

 

“Totally, I don’t really want to be left alone to run the place without any input from above.”

 

It was clear to Lestrade that that wasn’t the end of what Michael wished to say but that he didn’t feel able to continue so he finished for him.  “I’m sure Mycroft will be happy to talk to you any time, won’t you?”  Mycroft nodded his agreement “And, because of that beautiful boy of yours,” Lestrade addressed Michael and was as glad to see his smile at the acknowledgement of his importance as he was not to hear a sigh of discontent from Mycroft, “There will always be contact and visits won’t there Mycroft?”

 

“There most certainly will, and in both directions I hope,” Mycroft replied with a smile and the look that passed between Michael and Mycroft made Lestrade’s heart squeeze in his chest.  Respect and a shared love for their secret boy was written clear, no iceman mask in play at all.

 

“Which,” Mycroft reached for his coffee from the table between them, “Brings us to the subject of Frazer and how you advise we move forward with him.”

 

The way Mycroft and Lestrade were sat, sharing the sofa, had left only a very small gap between them since they arrived in the office but as Mycroft sat up for his coffee Lestrade felt him move closer and, when he rested his coffee cup on his knee Mycroft’s fingers, where they held his cup, were only a hairs breadth from touching Lestrade’s hand which sat on his own knee. 

 

Lestrade didn’t move his hand, and desperately tried not to smile, but he did adjust his weight just slightly so that he was leaning into Mycroft’s side, hoping the move would be welcome and comforting.

 

Michael picked up his own coffee, crossed his legs and took a large drink before he rested the cup on his knee and started to speak.

 

“Frazer settled fairly quickly last night after you left, he sat looking at me and trying to work things out and I helped where I could.  He settled against the glass for quite some time so I stayed until after ten when he crawled off to bed and fell asleep.” 

 

Michael took another drink, as if giving space for a response but none came so he continued.  “I spent a few hours last night lifting photos from the CCTV, I got a lovely one of you two from when you arrived and I managed to find decent face pictures of the other Mr Holmes and of his friend Doctor Watson.” 

 

He got up and walked over to his desk, opening the bag he’d dropped on it when they came in, pulling a folder out and going back to his chair, putting the contents of the folder on the table between them.  “I made a few copies and marked them up.”  Michael lifted the pictures, gesturing to the hearts drawn around the faces of both Lestrade and Mycroft in the photo he’d found of them and then to the separate pictures of Sherlock and John and Lestrade berated himself internally as he felt his skin heat and a blush rise up his neck.  He knew it was stupid but being introduced to Frazer as part of a pair with his uncle felt strangely nice.

 

“I went to check on him at midnight and I left your picture next to his bed and another stuck to the glass.  When I went in this morning at five he was looking at the pictures and looking around, I think looking for you two.  At eight, we played and stuff but he kept looking behind me, expecting you to be there and you weren’t.  He made do with the picture I’d stuck on the glass though, touching it and smiling and tracing the heart shapes on both of you.”

 

Lestrade could feel Mycroft’s body trembling against his and could also feel the pain inside him at the thought that Frazer, having been so over loaded with it all last night, was missing them when they’d thought it best to stay away.

 

Having given a second to see if Mycroft would respond Lestrade spoke instead. “We need a plan, we need to work out where we want to reach with him and then work out how we’re going to get there.”

 

“He is not staying here, he is coming home with us, I will not leave without him.”  Mycroft’s ‘I will not be argued with’ voice wasn’t quite at full effect but both Michael and Lestrade knew he was being serious and they both wanted to scream at him.  Had he learnt nothing from last night?

 

Lestrade stood up from the sofa, feeling distance between them was needed, “We can’t just pick him up and leave, we’ve got three more days here at the most, he’s not going to be ready for the outside world in three days.”

 

Michael nodded, “He has never been outside, never felt the wind, never been touched or held, I thought we’d got over this last night Sir, he can’t cope with any more massive changes right now.”

 

“He can’t.” Mycroft’s voice was calm “I know he can’t but he can’t stay here forever can he? and you,” Mycroft looked at Michael, “Can’t look after him like you want to while managing this establishment.  We,” Mycroft switched his attention to Lestrade. “can’t stay here much longer, work needs us and Sherlock needs you.”

 

“And you.”  Lestrade interrupted without thinking and Mycroft ignored him.

 

“So we need to find a way to take him home, he must have been moved around before hasn’t he?”

 

Michael thought hard, he knew that they had moved Frazer once before, when he moved from stuck in a cot all day to having space to move around, and he was trying to remember how that had been done.  “They moved him when he was asleep, I know that much.  He sleeps soundly so we might be able to manage something but the noise of the helicopter might scare him.”

 

“Maybe a boat?”  Mycroft shared a look with Michael that told Lestrade that he was missing something funny in relation to the idea but he filed it away in the ‘ask about that later’ drawer and stayed quiet.

 

“That might work, if we could cover his bed to make it dark he’d probably sleep until it got light however long that was, he behaves differently to other people.”

 

“He’s a Holmes, they all behave differently to other people.”  As soon as the words passed his lips Lestrade hated himself for failing to stop the thought becoming actual words but instead of looking hurt Mycroft almost smiled at him.

 

“Unique I think they call it Gregory.”

 

“Maybe,” Lestrade relaxed again, maybe a little too much. “But special would be better.”

 

Mycroft looked stunned and Michael laughed awkwardly as Lestrade moved back to the sofa, grabbing his now cooled coffee as he sat down and drank it all in one go.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this has taken so long, the boys (and my brain) just wouldn't behave ;-)
> 
>  
> 
> I hope it's worth the wait.

“Anthea has the plans, the workmen will be there to measure up this afternoon and, I am led to believe that they will be finished in less than twenty four hours once payment is made.  A twenty thousand pounds bonus if they can meet the timescale has persuaded them to take a break from another project.”

 

“So little Miss Nelson will be without the use of her bathroom for another night because her builders have walked out on her for more money elsewhere?”  Lestrade was joking, Miss Nelson was a figment of his imagination, but he’d been on the receiving end of disappearing builders in his time so he knew the annoyance the other party would feel at the situation.

 

“I shall compensate ‘Miss Nelson’” Lestrade heard the air quotes even if Mycroft couldn’t quite force himself to do them. “By paying for her ‘bathroom’ as well if you wish me to.”

 

“What a lovely idea, I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”  Lestrade grinned and winked and Mycroft smiled back at him.  “We’ve got an hour before we have to meet Michael and you’ve already got Frazer’s new home sorted,” Lestrade flinched as he said the word, he knew that if they were going to take Frazer away from here the best thing to do was recreate his cell at home before working out how to get him out of it but it still felt all kinds of wrong to call it his home. “So how about you lie down for a few minutes, we got far too little sleep last night and the next few hours are going to be rather emotionally tiring I would have thought.”

 

Lestrade had collapsed on to his bed as soon as he’d got back to the room and, in the ten minutes he’d waited for Mycroft to speak with Anthea, he’d only just managed to resist the urge to get under the covers.

 

Mycroft walked into the gap between the beds and sat down on his, lifting his feet to untie and remove his shoes, setting them carefully in front of the drawers, as Lestrade lay on his bed watching and stretching against the firm but comfy mattress.  Mycroft pulled his phone from his pocket and Lestrade rolled his eyes at him, “Rest Myc, just for a few minutes will you?”

 

“I am happy to do as you advise Gregory,”

 

Lestrade rolled onto his side and glared at Mycroft only to smile and sigh dramatically as he saw the glint in his eye and the grin on his face, “Two can play the name game Inspector, but only one of us seems to think themselves tired enough that lying down without an alarm set would be a bad idea.”  He placed his phone on top of the drawers between them and then carefully curled himself up on to the bed, lying facing Lestrade as he turned on to his side as well.

 

They lay for a few moments watching each other across the gap, neither taking their eyes off the other.  Lestrade was sure that Mycroft would notice the repeated twitch of his hand that seemed intent on reaching out towards him as he tried not to think too loudly while trying to listen to Mycroft’s mind whirring away and work out what he was thinking.

 

“Could we?”

 

“Would you?”

 

They both spoke at the same time and then laughed uncomfortably before Lestrade took a chance, “Can I join you over there?”

 

All the obvious tension in Mycroft’s body disappeared in an instant and he smiled and nodded before moving himself backwards across the bed, making room in front of him.

 

Lestrade watched him carefully; trying to make sure he understood what Mycroft wanted him to do because after last night he really wanted not to be a dick this time.

 

“Which way do you want me?”

 

Mycroft flushed red and scrambled to the far side of the bed, sitting up against the headboard. 

 

“I was only asking,” Lestrade’s voice was calm and he sat down on Mycroft’s bed, laying his hand palm up on the mattress between them and waited for Mycroft to look at him which he did at the same time as placing his hand on top of Lestrade’s.  “I stuffed up yesterday,” Mycroft’s body stiffened and Lestrade grasped his hand just slightly to stop it moving away. “Even if it worked out ok in the end I did something I shouldn’t have and as much as you seem to forgive me for that I won’t stuff up again.”

 

“But you,” Mycroft tried to interrupt but Lestrade waved a hand at him and he stopped.

 

“You can always say no.  You can tell me to move away, to stop touching or to give you space.  Just because you wanted to be wrapped in my arms last night doesn’t mean that you ever have to be again.  Consent once is not consent forever and forgiving me for doing something without your consent doesn’t mean I can do it again anytime I like.  You do understand that right?”

 

Mycroft nodded and tried to smile but he still didn’t look properly at Lestrade, it was clear that difficult thoughts were chasing around his mind and Lestrade decided it was best to wait them out so he just sat and waited, hoping the alarm wouldn’t go off before Mycroft processed it all in his head.

 

It took a few moments before he spoke, “I wanted to cuddle you.”  The words were quiet but Lestrade didn’t miss them, “I wanted to put my arm around you instead of it always being the other way around.”

 

“I don’t think you can class once as always.”  Lestrade laughed and then, when he saw Mycroft’s face crumble, and he realised what he’d actually been talking about, he wanted to punch himself in the face, hard. “Fucking hell I’m an idiot, Shit, I’m sorry. That was, oh fuck!”  Lestrade pummelled his face with the heel of his left hand and then scratched at his hair so hard Mycroft couldn’t resist reaching out and grabbing his hand to stop him.

 

“You are not an idiot,”  Mycroft let go of his hand, eyes saying all they needed to about what he’d do if Lestrade went back to damaging his face and scalp, and instead he used his fingers to gently return Lestrade’s hair to its previous, undisturbed, style.  “You are a far better man than even Sherlock told me you were and believe me his opinion of you is almost as high as mine.”

 

Lestrade felt a flush of embarrassment that ran all over his body at that but he decided to ignore it, “It’d be interesting to know Sherlock’s opinion of me at some point but right now,” Lestrade locked his eyes on Mycroft’s “right now I need you to understand something.”

 

Mycroft sucked in a breath like he’d just been smacked in the face and Lestrade’s heart hurt at the look of panic that suddenly graced his features, “This,” Lestrade waved his hand between them trying to indicate the thing that was going on between them, “whatever this is, is not the same as that.  This will never be the same as what he did to you.  I know that you say you’re ok about what I did last night but you shouldn’t be, I crossed a line that I shouldn’t have crossed and I need to know that you can see that, it’s important that you see that even if it ended ok and you enjoyed what came after I broke a promise to you and that is not ok.  Grabbing hold of you like that because I wanted too even though you’d told me how you felt about it was not ok.”

 

“You knew I needed it.”

 

“Nope! That is not the right response to this Mycroft, you had still said no.  What I did was wrong. Totally and entirely wrong and it’s important that you understand that because being with someone, touching someone and them touching you will always remind you of him until you can see the difference.  You need to know the difference between someone who cares for you but stuffs up sometimes and someone who just wants to do as they please with you.”

 

Lestrade’s heart was beating hard against his ribs by the time he’d finished speaking and he had to work hard not to run to the bathroom to be sick.  If Mycroft couldn’t see the difference between him and his fucking uncle then this whole situation was going to get a great deal worse.  There was no way that he could be any further involved in this situation, not with Mycroft or with Frazer, if he wasn’t sure Mycroft knew that he was allowed to be angry at him when he broke a promise and more importantly that he was allowed to say no to something and do anything he needed to to make sure he really heard him.

 

Mycroft sat for a minute, clearly turning Lestrade’s words over in his head, but eventually he spoke with more calmness than Lestrade had expected and with the clear and certain voice of Mycroft Holmes.  “When I collapsed into your arms and cried you hugged me tighter, apologised and then told me it was ok.  You didn’t throw me across the room and call me a cry baby.  You didn’t run your hand down my back and over my bum and tell me you were going to give me something to really cry about.  You didn’t slip your hand between us and tell me that you knew of a special way to stop boy’s tears or tell me that you had a special dummy for cry-babies and I’d better give it a good suck.”

 

Lestrade could feel his stomach clenching as Mycroft spoke but all his training jumped to the front of his brain and he sat motionless but clearly listening as Mycroft looked him square in the eye and kept talking.

 

“You didn’t hit me across the back of the head growling about how I’d ruined your shirt with my tears and I’d better take your wet clothes off and kiss you better. You didn’t stick your hands down my pants, digging your finger into my bum, and lift me off my feet to carry me to bed like the cry baby I am so that you could make me feel better.  You didn’t silently rip my clothes off; push me over the bed, holding my head into a pillow to silence my tears and then fuck me hard until there was more blood than tears on your precious clothes.”

 

Mycroft took a very steady breath and didn’t break eye contact with Lestrade,

 

“You,” Mycroft’s hand instinctively gestured towards Lestrade, “you who worries that I might not know the difference between you and him, expected that I’d hurt you for getting hold of me.  You were clearly braced for pain but you knew that I was going to hurt Frazer if you didn’t stop me, you knew that I was going to be MY uncle if you didn’t stop me so you stopped me.”

 

“I know the difference between him and you.  The difference is that you instantly apologised the moment I collapsed on you and your every thought was on making it better.  The difference is that you did it to protect someone who, at that moment, needed protecting from me.  The difference is that you let me lie in your arms and cry for hours without needing to know why I was crying. The difference is that you got up to get me a drink so I wouldn’t dehydrate and I didn’t have to ask to get back in your arms when you came back.  The difference is that when I went to the bathroom, to try and pull myself together, you didn’t move you didn’t expect my return to your arms when I came back but you didn’t stop me from curling back up there when I wanted too.”

 

Mycroft moved from leaning on the headboard and shuffled down the bed lying on his side, facing Lestrade and patted the bed in front of him.

 

“And the most important difference is that right now I want to wrap my arms around you and cuddle you close, taking care of you for a few minutes, but you won’t let me do that until you’re sure I really want to.”

 

Mycroft patted the bed in front of him again and smiled and Lestrade couldn’t help smiling back,

 

“Well then,” Lestrade could feel tears running down his cheeks and he tried to wipe them away with the back of his hand, “if you’re really sure?”  Mycroft nodded and Lestrade couldn’t help but grin shyly at him through the tears that kept on falling from his eyes as his heart raced at the thought. 

 

He took a long steadying breath before laying down in front of Mycroft and curling himself up on his side, facing away from him, waiting for the feel of his strong, elegant, arms around him and hoping that he wouldn’t embarrass himself too much when he was finally allowed to relax into them.

 

It felt like forever until Mycroft’s arm came to rest around his waist and it was even longer before he felt the relaxed warmth of a strong, caring, body against his back and the play of nervous fingers against his ribs but once they were there, warm and cosy and close, with Mycroft’s chin nuzzled softly against the back of his neck, Lestrade was sure that nothing had ever felt so right and so comfortable in his life. 

 

He would have happily stayed there for hours if it hadn’t been for Mycroft’s bloody alarm.


	13. Chapter 13

“So you want to move him tomorrow Mycroft?” 

“That is the plan yes. If we leave just after Frazer falls asleep tomorrow evening then the boat and car should have him in his new home before he wakes for breakfast at five and, hopefully, he will not be aware of the move.”

“Sounds doable so long as you aren’t looking for too much change in him before you leave here?” Michael raised questioning eyes at Mycroft, “I won’t let you take him unless you promise to be careful with him and he’s not going if he’s not happy about it.”

“He’s my,”

Lestrade sensed the anger in Mycroft’s tone and knew what he was about to say so he cut him off with a snapped, “Mycroft!” And Mycroft looked at him, glaring for a second before he recovered himself and shut down just slightly before he spoke again.

“I understand your position Michael, none of us would want Frazer hurt. As a Holmes his mental state is no doubt fragile, I do not seek to upset him.”

There was a sadness, and an accuracy, to Mycroft statement about Holmes’ mental health and Lestrade wanted nothing more than to reach out to him and tell him that he didn’t have to worry anymore, that he wasn’t alone in this and that somehow they’d find a way to keep the whole lot of them safe but he knew it wasn’t the time or the place so he kept quiet.

Michael nodded calmly, “So what are you wanting to achieve by tomorrow night?”

Mycroft didn’t seem to know the answer to that question and, as Lestrade watched him trying to find it from somewhere inside his brain, he saw a whole range of emotions, from sadness to anger and then to internal contempt, play just under the surface of his mask and he decided that this was the time to step in and help. 

“Frazer’s new home is identical to his cell here, chair, bed, marks, glass and everything. We intend his routine to remain exactly the same when he first arrives, don’t we Mycroft?” Mycroft nodded which gave Lestrade more confidence to continue. “The room has glass, which can be removed when he’s ready but we won’t until he is. We intend to increase physical interaction during nappy changes and meals but still giving him space at other times and we really want to talk to him and encourage him to talk but we know that that’s another input we need to work on slowly, we have no wish to scare or upset him by moving more quickly than he is ready for but we do hope, eventually, to build on your amazing work with him and to reach a point where he can function happily, and safely, in the world outside of here.”

As he got to the end of what he understood the plan to be Lestrade’s brain caught up with him, flashing the we, we, we, we, we ness of his monologue up in front of his eyes, and his stomach tried to leap into his chest as he stammered “By we I mean Mycroft obviously,” and then he turned away from the others, ducking his head down into his shoulders and walking towards the window, looking out to sea.

“No he doesn’t!” Mycroft addressed Michael who smiled and nodded as Lestrade swung round in shock, eyes wide and focused entirely on Mycroft, “The rest of what he said was accurate however. I believe that we need to ensure that Frazer will interact happily with us and that he understands that he is safe with us despite the fact that you are no longer there. I also believe that teaching him his name, as we do not know your song, would be useful before we leave. Do you think that all that would be possible?”

Michael began scribbling on the pad in front of him on his desk, clearly drawing up a plan, so Mycroft took the opportunity to join Lestrade at the window, leaning into his shoulder and slipping his arm around his waist as they waited.

 

“I would suggest,” Michael looked up from his scribbling and Mycroft and Lestrade stood up from their leaning by the window and walked back in front of his desk, “That next time we go in I should start the game, you two wait by the door until he notices you and then come and join in and I’ll move away when he’s ready. Which one of you has most experience at changing nappies?” Michael looked between them and seemed to quickly realise that Lestrade was the answer to the question,

“I’ve done it once or twice with my nieces and nephews if that counts?” Lestrade shuffled nervously and Mycroft’s whole body seemed to stiffen beside him.

“Well, I’ll find you a doll to practice on, both of you,” he glanced between them, “It wouldn’t be right to practice on Frazer, but I suggest Lestrade comes in with me during the next nappy change and feed which I’ll do and then we swap for the one after, if all’s going ok, and you do it while I’m there. At teatime when we go to play I think we should all be at the glass and you should say his name while I sing to attract his attention and then you should both use his name throughout the session. If he’ll let me then I’ll move away to the door just to watch and you two will end the session.”

Lestrade was trying to look confident in the plan but he could see the colour draining from Mycroft’s face as they listened and it wasn’t helping his confidence.

“If all has gone well then I think you two should do the night time nappy change together, and sort out his supper, without pushing the touch or making any noise and then you should do the bedtime play session together, trying to attract his attention with his name, and I’ll stay, almost out of sight by the door.”

Michael stopped talking, almost as if he was expecting a response but neither of them could manage one so he decided to finish what he had to say instead.

“If the plan works he’ll be all yours from tomorrow morning and ready to leave at bedtime.” Michael took another breath and looked at Mycroft with many an emotion written on his face. “I’m going to miss him you know but I’m glad he’s going home to his family”

Michael’s mention of home and family seemed to take Mycroft completely off guard and he staggered backwards, finding the armchair in the corner, and sat down breathing deeply. Lestrade was quickly at his side, close but not too close and Michael stood from his desk and made a quick excuse, of needing a coffee, before he left the office closing the door behind him.

“You ok?” Lestrade was worried, Mycroft’s breathing didn’t seem to be settling and he wasn’t responding. “Seriously Myc, what’s wrong?”

Mycroft finally looked up at Lestrade and tears were running down his cheeks.

“Can I?” Lestrade offered his arms towards him, and Mycroft nodded repeatedly, almost begging him to come nearer so he did, crouching down in front of him, wrapping both arms around his back and letting Mycroft tangle his hands in his shirt sleeves and bury his head in his neck, hiding his tears. Lestrade rocked slightly and rubbed slowly across Mycroft’s back all the time watching for any sign that he’d pushed the contact too far.

Once the tears had stopped Mycroft lifted his head from Lestrade’s shoulder and sat up but he didn’t loosen his grip of his shirt sleeves and Lestrade made no effort to move away as he still looked on the verge of tears.

“How am I going to tell them Greg? How am I going to tell Sherlock that his nephew has been kept like this? How am I going to tell mummy and father? They hate me already for what I’ve done to Eurus but this is far worse than that. How can I ever tell them?”

Mycroft was trembling and tears were falling again and Lestrade dropped on to his knees and pulled him closer, holding him tightly against his chest trying to calm him and trying to work out what the answer to any of those questions was. 

In the end he decided that there was only one answer to all of them so he dipped his chin, placing a soft kiss to the top of Mycroft’s head and as confidently as he could manage he replied “We’ll tell them, somehow, some way, WE will tell them.”


	14. Chapter 14

The bedroom door clicked closed behind Lestrade and he leant on it, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.  It had been a long day and it wasn’t over yet.

 

“Did you see him; did you see him when I said his name Gregory?”  Mycroft pulled his tie loose from his collar and threw it towards his bed “He smiled did you see? And he looked at me.  I remember the first time Sherlock did that.”

 

Mycroft was stood leaning on the end of his bed pulling his still fastened shoe from his left foot, wobbling and talking as he did it.  “Sherlock was about the same age as Frazer, Eurus had just been born and mummy and father were busy with her.  I found him in the play room and he was throwing bricks at the wall, he’d coloured on them I think and was trying to see if they’d make marks on the wall. Anyway, I walked in and when I said his name he turned and grinned at me and crawled over like I was the best thing he’d seen all day, I was probably the first person he’d seen but still, I remember him being so happy to come and talk to me and Frazer looked just like that didn’t he?”

 

Mycroft was grinning from ear to ear, his voice was high, he was speaking more quickly than Lestrade had ever heard him but most amusing, and simply adorable as far as Lestrade was concerned, was that he was flitting and dancing around the room just like Sherlock did when he was excited about a case. 

 

Throwing his shoes on to the floor between the beds and dropping his jacket, unfolded over the back of the chair Mycroft kept talking and moving as he started on the buttons of the waistcoat.

 

“You know when he looked at you, that first time when he lifted the towel after you’d done his nappy?”

 

Lestrade smiled and nodded and received a heart and soul grin in return.

 

“He had his head on one side, did you see?”  Mycroft mimicked the head tilt and Lestrade nodded at him.  “Eurus did that as a baby, her eyes sparkled like Frazer’s do and they read everything about you, he knows more than we know he knows doesn’t he?”

 

Waistcoat thrown on top of the jacket on the chair, Mycroft unbuckled his belt and undid the button on his trousers, letting them drop before he hopped around like a small child shaking his feet to release them from their trouser leg prison.

 

“Do you think he’ll like to play, you know, when we can? Or do you think he’ll experiment all the time, we better keep an eye on him I guess, Eurus was keeping her experiments in the fridge from as soon as she could open the door, we might have to get a lock for the food fridge if he takes after his mother and uncle.  Of course he might go more for playing games or he might be a quiet plotting sort like I was,”

 

His crisp white shirt had been dropped on to the bed, cufflinks lost somewhere on the floor and Mycroft pulled his undershirt off over his head with a grin, “Whatever he’s going to be like when we get him home I can’t wait to go back and play at bedtime, do you think he’ll smile again and remember his name?  I’m going for a shower.”  Without stopping for breath Mycroft grabbed his wash bag off the top of the drawers between the beds.  “Will you ring for some dinner? Michael said they’d send it whenever we were ready, I’ll be quick, I know you’re hungry.” And without waiting for a reply he headed for the en-suite, pushing the door closed behind him.

 

 

 

 

 

Lestrade pushed himself up from his leaning place against the door and shook his head, laughing to himself.  Until just five minutes ago he’d thought Sherlock and Mycroft shared very little in terms of mannerisms, personality and intellect yes but mannerisms and body language certainly not, but the man who had just left the room for a shower was either a very good mimic of Sherlock Holmes or a very brief, and very welcome, glimpse of a young Mycroft Holmes before the world got to him and caged him within himself.

 

After making a quick call to order dinner Lestrade threw himself down on the bed, stretching his full length and closed his eyes, running the events of a long and emotional day through his mind.  Michael had once again proved his genius with their little man.  His plan, coupled with his positive yet commanding interactions with Frazer, had led them to right where they hoped they’d be by tea time.

 

Frazer now seemed to recognise his name, he looked up and smiled when he heard it, Mycroft was right to be happy about that and Lestrade grinned as the memory playing behind his eyelids.  First came the grin Frazer had given Mycroft the first time he’d really understood he was being spoken to, then the first smile he’d got from him when he’d tried to engage him in peek-a-boo, he’d been shocked by just how much he’d fallen in love with the little boy at that moment, and the memories of Frazer were quickly followed by the image of Mycroft fumbling with still tied shoes while balancing on one leg grinning as he talked.

 

 

 

Mycroft had spent almost all the hours they weren’t with Frazer practicing changing a nappy.  He’d watched Michael and then he’d watched Lestrade and then he’d tried himself; he’d even tried with the towel in place so he was absolutely sure he’d get it right and Lestrade was confident that when they went to sort their boy for bedtime Mycroft would be able to do it for real if he wanted to.

 

Placing food on the floor and giving silent arm waves to tell the boy when to eat and play and when to sleep were never going to be Lestrade’s thing for long but he still felt proud of himself, and of Mycroft, that they’d earned Frazer’s trust so quickly and that they’d all three managed to make it to the point Michael said they would.  This time tomorrow they would be heading home, taking Frazer ‘home’ to his family, not that Lestrade wanted to give too much thought to how that was going to play out right now, but it would be good to be back, good to see Sherlock and John and good to see Rosie who now seemed a whole lot more interesting.  _Maybe that’s why parents hang out with each other_ Lestrade thought to himself before suddenly sitting up and giving himself a telling off for even thinking of himself in such a role with Mycroft’s nephew.

 

 

 

 

The water had stopped about ten minutes ago and Lestrade was becoming worried that Mycroft had climbed out of the window, not that there were actually any windows anywhere in this place.

 

“Mycroft?”  Lestrade knocked gently on the bathroom door, “You ok?”

 

There was a muffled sound and some movement behind the door but nothing that put Lestrade’s mind at rest so he knocked again. “Mycroft? Is there a problem, you’ve been ages and dinner will be here soon.”

 

Lestrade waited, listening hard, until he heard the slide of a bolt and the door opened just a tiny crack, and “could you pass me my bag?”  The words were little more than a whisper and the voice was less than a shadow of the one that had gone into the bathroom.

 

“Yeah, no bother.”  Lestrade moved away to get the bag and then passed it through the door as the opening became bigger but Mycroft didn’t appear. “You ok.”

 

The door closed without an answer so Lestrade moved away, sitting himself at the top of his bed and pretending to read the book Sherlock had packed for Mycroft while all the time worrying what had happened to his friend.

 

 

 

“Did you call for dinner?”  Mycroft emerged from the bathroom in a full three piece suit, waistcoat and tie done up, cufflinks in place, clean shaven, hair set to within an inch of its life and Lestrade couldn’t help but stare.

 

“What the hell?”

 

“Sorry?”  Mycroft turned his head and looked at him with blank questioning eyes.

 

“What the hell happened in there?”

 

“I had a shower and then I dressed for dinner.”

 

“No but? What the?”  Lestrade didn’t know how to start the sentence never mind finish it so instead he dropped his head, scratching at the back of his neck in frustration, before he answered the earlier question.  “It’ll be about another ten minutes I think, curry and rice followed by rhubarb crumble and custard, Sherlock told me you liked rhubarb when you were little and I like curry so I thought it would do for us both.”

 

“I won’t be eating dessert but thank you for the thought.”  Mycroft turned away quietly and started to pick up his discarded clothes, straightening his jacket and placing it on a hanger and then he sat down to unfasten his still tied shoes, never once looking at Lestrade so Lestrade continued to pretend to read the book while actually trying to work out what on earth had happened to Mycroft in the last twenty minutes.

 

 

Knock knock knock,

 

 

Lestrade jumped off the bed at the sound of knocking and pulled the door open, eager to take the tray from the man outside.  “Thank you for this, it smells lovely,”  

 

The man at the door smiled politely and nodded, “I’ll bring the cool box for breakfast and lunch when I return for your tray sir, please call down when you’re finished.”

 

“I certainly will,” Lestrade nodded and then turned back into the room carrying the tray. “Your bed or mine?”

 

Mycroft looked up but not actually at Lestrade, “If you place the tray on the top of the drawers we should both be able to reach.” And then he dropped his eyes back to the bed.

 

Lestrade walked into the gap between the beds, as if going to follow Mycroft’s suggestion, but he suddenly decided not to. “Nah, you’re ok, I’ll put the tray on my bed and we’ll both sit on yours.”  Mycroft made a noise that sounded part shocked at being disobeyed and part angry and Lestrade decided to ignore it completely.

 

Throwing two sets of cutlery and napkins on the middle of the bed Lestrade turned and glared at Mycroft, “Budge up, or shall I go round the other side?”

 

Mycroft didn’t lift his head but he shuffled over, making room for Lestrade next to him against the headboard so Lestrade passed him his plate and then sat down next to him, crossing his legs to balance his plate in the gap between his knees and they ate in absolute, and incredibly uncomfortable, silence.

 

When the curry was finished Lestrade removed both plates and replaced them with bowls of crumble and custard which Mycroft didn’t refuse but he certainly didn’t eat.  After three mouthfuls of his own crumble Lestrade had had enough of whatever was going on.

 

“I can’t do this Mycroft,” he’d intended to sound calm as he spoke but instead he sounded upset and strangely that seemed to get Mycroft’s attention.

 

“I’m sorry”  Mycroft rarely apologised for anything and it soon became obvious why he didn’t when the word was followed by a train of words that were all competing to escape his head at the same time seemingly outside of his control. “I don’t mean to be difficult, this is all very strange to me, this last few days have changed me and you’ve changed me and Frazer has changed me and for a few minutes today I felt like the real me and then I was just so stupid and I let my guard down and I did … and I’m …” he took a breath and returned to his composed nature. “And I can’t eat this pudding because it will make me fat.”

 

“Like fuck!!”

 

Lestrade was nearly as shocked at his own response as Mycroft clearly was, “You must have …” Mycroft stopped,

 

“I must have what?”

 

“You must have,” Mycroft’s voice dropped to hardly a whisper, “Seen how fat I am earlier.”

 

“What?”  Lestrade was at a loss as to what was going on but as he looked at Mycroft and saw that he was clearly struggling with something he ran back over the events since they got back to the room trying to find the problem and suddenly stumbled right into it, “Shit! I didn’t notice anything; I didn’t even notice that you were in just your pants, all I saw was the briefest of glimpses of what I’ve always known was there. Fuck! Look.”  Lestrade put his bowl back on the tray and knelt up on the bed, turning to face Mycroft, “Eat your crumble, enjoy it and let me see the real you more,” 

 

Lestrade noticed a blush appear on Mycroft’s cheeks and him squirm uncomfortably, “not you without your clothes you idiot,” his voice softened and he smiled shyly “I truly never even noticed that, what I noticed was the real you, the eight year old you, bouncing around like Sherlock, smiling and talking and loving what was happening.  You ran off for a shower an eight year old and somewhere in there you reached nine and then twelve and then you were back here, all grown up, locked away in your armour.”

 

Lestrade gestured up and down at the suit and Mycroft looked down at himself and tears escaped from his eyes.

 

“Eat your crumble Myc, eat it, enjoy it, you deserve it because you are bloody awesome.  Please don’t guard yourself from me.”

 

Mycroft’s tears kept running and he didn’t move to pick up his spoon so Lestrade picked it up instead and dipped it into the bowl, lifting out a small spoonful.  “Mycroft,” the word was soft and calm, “Open up?”  It took a second but Mycroft lifted his head, tears still running down his cheeks and he looked at Lestrade for the first time since he’d come back from his shower and Lestrade smiled at him.  “Come on, have a go.”

 

Finally Mycroft leant forward slightly, opening his mouth and taking the spoon, all the time watching Lestrade with eyes so heavy with emotion that Lestrade would never be able to read them all but he kept trying anyway as Mycroft took spoonful after spoonful from him, clearly enjoying the taste just as much as Sherlock had told Lestrade he would.

 

Once the bowl was empty, Lestrade removed it, setting it next to his still almost full bowl on the tray and he sat back down next to Mycroft against the headboard, leaving no gap between them. “Can I cuddle you? Would that be ok?”

 

Mycroft leant heavily into Lestrade’s shoulder and whispered quietly “Please.”

 

Lestrade didn’t wait even a second as Mycroft relaxed and allowed himself to be almost lifted into Lestrade’s arms until he was sat sideways between his knees being cradled against Lestrade’s chest like a child, both arms around him holding him tight, keeping him safe and just allowing him to be.


	15. Chapter 15

They’d sat quietly for a while, cuddled together on the bed. Mycroft had made no attempt to move from Lestrade’s arms but his mood seemed to have improved as he’d relaxed into Lestrade’s chest and Lestrade had held him tightly while running his hand gently up and down his arm and resting his chin softly on his head placing soft, reassuring, kisses there every now and then.

Mycroft had shifted slightly so that he could move his hand up inside Lestrade’s jacket and curl his fingers into his shirt against his side and with each movement of Lestrade’s hand up and down his arm he’d curled closer, holding tighter and relaxed further against him.

“Do you know what I thought when Sherlock first asked me to make sure you were ok?” Lestrade spoke quietly and ended the sentence with a squeeze of his arms. Mycroft didn’t answer but he made a questioning sound so Lestrade continued.

“I thought, why the hell would he trust me with something so important to him,” Mycroft tensed just slightly as if he was getting ready to argue that he wasn’t important to Sherlock but, when Lestrade kissed the top of his head, he seemed to think better of it and relaxed again. “My second thought was how the hell am I not going to screw it up?”

Mycroft tried to hide a laugh but Lestrade felt it against his chest, “oy,” Lestrade jabbed a finger into Mycroft’s ribs, best he could through a jacket, waistcoat and shirt but it was enough to make him squirm and laugh out loud “I’m trying to be serious here, and this bloody get up is unfair, stops me tickling you properly.” 

“sorry, sorry, sorry.” Mycroft gasped between laughs as Lestrade continued to try and tickle his side causing his fingers to tighten in Lestrade’s shirt. 

“You’ve got a firm grip of me while I’m three layers away from you, you can’t consider that fair play surely?” Lestrade was trying to pout and pretend to look upset but he couldn’t really keep the grin from his face and he even managed to hold the grin when Mycroft tipped his head back and looked at him nervously, face going white as a sheet. “I’m not suggesting you take your shirt off Myc, but you don’t normally sit around our room in that lot do you?”

Mycroft was looking at him with wide eyes and Lestrade could see all that was going on behind them so he maintained eye contact and waited, whatever Mycroft decided would be fine but it would be nice to get a little closer to him if he felt safe to let him.

After a second Mycroft sat up slightly, although he made no attempt to move from his position in Lestrade’s lap and he seemed reluctant to let go of Lestrade’s shirt, but he made to shrug his jacket from his shoulders. 

“Can I help?” Lestrade offered cautiously, keeping his hands down where Mycroft could see them on the bed.

After a second, and two deep breaths, Mycroft nodded and Lestrade took hold of the cuff of his jacket and held it while Mycroft pulled his arm out, he then lifted his arm over Mycroft’s head, taking the jacket off his shoulders and down his other arm before throwing it across the bed and winking at him. “That’s better, more of a fair fight now.”

Mycroft’s hand quickly found its way back to Lestrade’s shirt, and he curled the fabric between his fingers thoughtfully. “Not quite fair.” 

The words were quiet and nervous and loaded with all kinds of emotions, many of which Lestrade could hear but there were a few that he couldn’t understand so he spoke carefully.

“Why not?”

Mycroft’s eyes flicked down to the front of his waist coat, then to Lestrade’s shirt and then back to Lestrade’s eyes and Lestrade knew from the look in Mycroft’s eyes that he was never going to find the words but that he really hoped Lestrade would hear them anyway.

Lestrade nodded just slightly and then without breaking eye contact, trying to ensure that he’d notice before there was a problem not after, he lifted his hand to the top of Mycroft’s waistcoat and undid the top button. Mycroft let out a breath as he felt the button undo and tightened his fingers in Lestrade’s shirt but the small smile that began to nudge the edge of his lips gave Lestrade the confidence to continue and within a minute the waistcoat was undone and Mycroft was allowing him to pull it from his shoulders and throw it in the direction of the already discarded jacket.

As the waistcoat hit the bed Mycroft’s eyes lit up, the sparkle of earlier was back, and he grinned, a very cheeky and entirely unexpected grin as he reached for Lestrade’s tie, “My turn I think.”

“Only if you take yours off as well” Lestrade laughed as he lifted his chin to allow Mycroft to carefully loosen his tie and remove it from his collar but the laughing stopped and he gave an entirely different response as he felt Mycroft’s fingers graze against his Adam’s apple and flick open the top button of his shirt before he pulled away to remove his own tie.

“That’s better,” Mycroft settled himself back against Lestrade’s chest and curled his fingers into his shirt against his side.

Lestrade looked down at Mycroft, cuddled in against him, crisp white shirt slightly ruffled across the back and he considered his options. He could sit there worried about scaring him and keep his hands to himself, which would probably send their friendship into terminal decline. He could put his arms around him and hold him tight, keeping his safe without his usual armour, and hope that that would be ok, or he could go right back to where he was when he’d complained about the unfairness of the situation and he could tickle his now rather more unprotected ribs and see if he laughed any louder. Within seconds the decision was made and Mycroft was squirming in his arms like a child, laughing loudly.

“you have a gorgeous laugh you know,” Lestrade stopped tickling him and held Mycroft close as he stopped laughing and tried to regain his breathing, “Totally gorgeous.”

Mycroft looked like he was going to disagree but then a smile that said otherwise slid onto his face and instead he asked “so, you were saying?”

“I was?”

“Before you complained about my attire you were saying something about when Sherlock asked you to look after me, not that I need looking after.”

“Of course you don’t,” Lestrade tickled again at Mycroft’s ribs making him squirm, “But you’re glad he asked right?”

“Very much” it was said with a grin and Lestrade had to resist the urge to lean down and kiss the grin away but instead he tried to focus on what he’d been saying earlier.

“Yeah, so when he asked me I couldn’t imagine ever being able to work out what you were thinking to even know if you weren’t ok never mind to think of something I might be able to do to help. I said I’d do it, who says no to Sherlock, but I was sure I’d stuff up within seconds and be on a plane to who knows where within an hour.” Lestrade laughed and felt Mycroft do the same against his chest. “I’m glad I didn’t panic at my first thoughts though because when I got home, to the quiet of my flat, all I could think about was you.”

Mycroft tensed in Lestrade’s arms and Lestrade stroked his hand gently up and down his side until he relaxed again.

“Mysterious and deadly are my thing you know, getting kidnapped is awesome and that glare of yours, well what can I say about that.” 

Lestrade laughed but Mycroft tensed in his arms at the not quite joke so Lestrade leant his head down, nestling his chin into the soft hair on Mycroft’s head and kissed it gently. “really though, what I thought about that night, while I waited until I could pick you up in the morning, was about all the things I thought I’d seen in you but was never sure and all the times you’d shown up trying to fix something for your little brother, getting such a negative response in return, and still kept coming. It makes sense now but it always looked so painful, I couldn’t understand why you put yourself through it.”

Lestrade ran his fingers slowly up Mycroft’s arm and then down his side a couple of times before he spoke again.

“It made me wonder about the fact that you’ve always seemed to trust me to look after him when you weren’t there, right from the first time we met, when let’s be honest I was an older guy in a position of power with my arms around your barely dressed little brother who was high as a kite, drunk as a skunk and had clearly had some fun with someone. Trusting me would not be high on many people’s lists of things to do right at that moment!”

“You rang me, on your own phone, and said ‘hi, my name’s Greg, I’m in an old house.’ Then you gave me the postcode, which I’ve intentionally deleted, before you said ‘I’m with a young man who keeps saying your name so I found your number in his phone and rang you.’ 

That call was enough to tell me that you could be trusted even before I met you.”

“How?” Lestrade was confused and Mycroft couldn’t help but laugh while simultaneously blushing.

“I try and resist turning my brain on you, but I will do so if you insist?”

“Then I insist! Do it now!” Lestrade grinned and ran his fingers down Mycroft’s ribs, silently threatening to tickle him if he didn’t.

“Well then. You rang from your own phone therefore you weren’t trying to hide who you were. You used your first name not your last which meant it was personal. You told me where I needed to be before you told me anything else so I knew that it was important and that you wanted me there quickly. You didn’t name Sherlock, so if you’d got the wrong number or I wasn’t who you thought you hadn’t given away his privacy and then you capped it off by telling me that you’d had his phone in your hand to get my number, rather than that he’d told you it, which meant that he was incapable of telling you but you’d found a way to do what he needed anyway.”

Mycroft finally looked up to meet Lestrade’s eyes clearly concerned by what reaction he’d be getting and Lestrade grinned a wide, sparkly eyed grin, at him.

“That’s impressive! You know that right?”

Mycroft blushed redder “I could go on if you want to hear it, that was a very important meeting, but you really don’t have to listen any further, as I said I endeavour not to be a smart arse around you.”

“More about that first meeting?”

Mycroft nodded,

“Go on, tell me the rest, impress me with your genius.”

Mycroft blushed hard and looked away before he continued speaking.

“Before you ended the call you said ‘we’re on the first floor by the back windows’ and you told me to mind steps nine and eleven because they were loose. That told me that you weren’t going to abandon him for me to find but you wanted me to find him easily and also that you’d been paying attention on your way in to be sure that you knew how to get out or how to get help in.”

Mycroft turned slightly in Lestrade’s lap, curling in towards him. “When I first saw you you had Sherlock in your arms like this, curled up against you, covering his lack of clothes with his own body best you could and then you had your coat, that long black one that either you’d lost weight since you bought or you’d bought big on purpose for such a situation, I’ve never quite worked out which, wrapped around him covering all but his head.”

“You clearly wanted to protect him and keep him safe and when you saw me your arms tightened around him and you whispered something to him which made him tense up but you patted his back until he calmed again. You’d never met me, you didn’t know me and you weren’t going to hand him over until you were sure he was safe”

“You could have been anyone.” Lestrade winked at the smile he received for that, “I bet you don’t know what I said to him!”

“Of course I don’t, I was not supposed to hear it.” 

“No but the way you said that means you know really don’t you?” Lestrade’s fingers played against Mycroft’s ribs until he moved to look up at him.

“I could endeavour to guess but I am not given to doing things like that.”

“Give it a go, just this once, I promise to tell you if you’re right, you’ll know if I’m lying anyway won’t you?”

Mycroft sat up straight, turning to look Lestrade in the eye, studying him carefully. “I would suspect that you said ‘I’ve got you kid, you’re safe with me but I think Mycroft’s here’ but I don’t know for sure.”

Lestrade stared at him for a very long moment before he smiled, “Almost perfect, that’s pretty amazing given you didn’t hear it.”

“Which bit did I get wrong?” 

“I didn’t call him ‘kid’ but I can’t tell you what I did call him because he made me promise never to tell anyone EVER! Sorry.”

“Fair enough.” Mycroft settled back against his chest, “Have you had enough or shall I finish before we go and see Frazer?

“Finish?” Lestrade gasped, “You mean that there’s more? God you’re good!”

“Well, you carried him to the car because he wouldn’t let go of your shirt and, having asked if it was ok to sit in my car covered in whatever you’d been sat in since you’d found him, you held him all the way to the hospital and carried him to his room. It was hours before you left and when you did you left him your coat, which I think you would find in his wardrobe even now, safely stowed next to the one he bought that actually fitted him. Clearly you wanted to be sure that he was ok and you were willing to give up almost anything to make sure that he was. How could I not trust you with him? You were amazing.”

“It just seemed like the right thing to do, it was nothing special.”

Mycroft sat up, looking Lestrade in the eye, “That’s exactly why you are special Gregory, because you don’t think that you are, you think that what you do is normal and it isn’t and that is before we consider the on-going deal you have with him.”

“Deal? What deal?” Lestrade asked nervously knowing exactly what Mycroft was talking about.

“The stay clean and you can have a puzzle. Eat; sleep and shower to celebrate solving the puzzle or you don’t get another one deal.”

“That was, Oh Shit! How do you?” Lestrade started scrubbing at his face with the heel of his hand and Mycroft reached up to try and stop him and looked at him with concern.

“Whatever is the matter Gregory? You got my brother clean and you fed him and looked after him, you have never given him a case when he has been high or if he had refused the three meals, a shower and twelve hours sleep you required from him after a case. I am aware that you stepped back when John came along but you still never turned him away when he needed you. After John moved out of Baker Street Sherlock came back to you as if nothing had changed and you offered no resistance and even when he was taking cases from other people, sometimes not staying clean, he always came to you after he had solved them for his food and sleep and you never once turned him away so what’s the problem?”

“The problem is,” Lestrade desperately wanted to get up off the bed and move away but Mycroft wasn’t taking the hint and wouldn’t move from his seat across his knees. “If you know about that then there are other things you must know as well and that makes this all, fuck Myc I, um, shit!”

Mycroft grabbed both of Lestrade’s hands and held them tight, looking him in the eye with a glare that stopped all movement. “I know that my brother had someone to care for him, to clean him and wash him and keep him safe when drugs made him incapable. I know that he had someone who always made sure that he ate enough to survive, and to thrive when clean, and that he had warm clothes and blankets wherever he laid his head. I know that he had strong, safe arms to sleep in when he returned from his death and suffered nightmare that almost drove him back to drugs and I know that caring for Sherlock kept you sane when your wife tried everything in her power to send you mad.”

 

They sat for a few moments just staring at each other, Lestrade trying to process what Mycroft had said and Mycroft looking like he feared to look away in case the man before him disappeared in a blink.

“You know that I’ve shared a bed with your brother, that I showered your brother, that I care for your brother and that doesn’t bother you?” The confusion was clear in both Lestrade’s words and his movements.

“Why would it?” Mycroft looked confused at the question and that only increased Lestrade’s feelings of unease.

“Because you’re sat on my knee, because I’ve got my arms around you, because we’ve had a mad few days together, because…” Lestrade’s voice trailed off, he didn’t really know why he thought this would be a problem given that it appeared that Mycroft had always known but it was still far too confusing for his brain at that moment.

Mycroft took a breath and took Lestrade’s hand, weaving their fingers together, “When your sisters had sleepovers when you were kids, did they all have separate beds or did they share?”

“They shared my mum’s bed and she slept on the sofa, why?”

“When Katie has Tanya over for wine in that beautiful studio apartment she lives in do you think that one of them sleeps on the floor?”

Lestrade laughed, “I shouldn’t think so, there’s not really room and Katie is always laughing about how cold Tanya’s feet are and how regularly she gets cramp after a night in heels so I guess they share Killer’s bed”

Mycroft raised a questioning eyebrow and Lestrade laughed, “Katie Isabelle Lestrade. What self-respecting big brother wouldn’t?” 

Mycroft shook his head and rolled his eyes but he did flash a smirk before he spoke again, “If Sergeant Donovan told you that she had shared a bed with her friend on Saturday night after an event would you think anything amiss?”

Lestrade shook his head and laughed, “No, of course I wouldn’t, unless it was Anderson at which point I’d just take the piss and hope his wife had kicked him out already!” 

“So?” Mycroft posed it as a question but Lestrade didn’t even know what the question was.

“So what?”

“So, you did what was best for Sherlock, just as you always have, but you have no interest of a sexual nature in him and he has no interest of that variety in you so why should you sharing a bed be an issue?” Mycroft gave a tiny pause, “Because you’re both men?” Mycroft took another pause; this one was purely for effect before he raised an eyebrow accusingly and smirked at Lestrade “Careful Gregory your sexism is showing.”

Lestrade laughed, a real full body laugh and Mycroft mirrored it, pulling Lestrade forward and wrapping his arms around his back, holding him tightly. 

“I think you know Holmes’ all too well Gregory, we’re crazy and unusual, we play by our own rules and we don’t trust people easily but we both trust you. Look,” Mycroft pulled his head back to look Lestrade in the eye, “I know that you love my brother beyond most things but it’s not in the way that other people would understand, it’s not as his brother, it’s not as his father and it’s certainly not as his lover it’s just totally and entirely as Gregory Lestrade and he’s a bloody lucky guy!”

“I, … erm….” Lestrade stammered and blushed beetroot red, “I really don’t know what to say to that Myc.”

“Then don’t say anything, we need to get going anyway, the youngest Holmes boy needs you now.”

Lestrade laughed and gave Mycroft a playful shove, “Well then, jump up, over the years I’ve learnt that it’s best not to keep Holmes boys waiting, they don’t really have the patience for it.”

The look he got from Mycroft, as he scrambled across the bed to grab his waistcoat and jacket, was the cheekiest, happiest, most beautiful look he’d ever received in his life and he had to swallow hard to stop his heart escaping up his throat and throwing itself at Mycroft.

He took a breath and grinned to himself, his very own trio of Holmes boys, whatever had he done to deserve this?


	16. Chapter 16

Mycroft was shaking, actually physically shaking as Michael explained to him what he needed to do while changing Frazer’s nappy and sorting out his supper and Lestrade had to take a step away and focus on looking around for cameras, which he’d only just noticed weren’t in great supply in this area, in order not to put his arm around him.  This and bedtime playtime were the two things left that they had to get right before Michael would let them make plans for going home tomorrow so they were both quite nervous.

 

“I’m not coming in the room for this, I’ll watch on the cameras in case he needs me but you two are going in ok?”  Mycroft nodded without looking up from the floor.

 

“The lights are on but he’ll go to his bed when he sees you, don’t look at him and don’t talk to him.  His supper is in the corridor so when you go past the glass take the food and the bottle and put in on the yellow triangle before you get set up for changing him ok?”  Mycroft nodded again, still not looking at Michael

 

“Use his name, quietly, and hopefully he’ll come over.  When he gets there he’ll do what he knows he should, try and be quick with the nappy, and accept it if he won’t play after.  If he does play with you remember not to push him and don’t touch him.  Also, remember to send him for his food before you pack up and leave.  He won’t eat it unless you tell him too.”

 

Mycroft nodded again but didn’t say anything and as Lestrade looked at him he seemed lost in his own head.

 

“He’ll do a great job Michael, don’t worry.”  Lestrade smiled widely at Michael, he was confident of Mycroft’s abilities with his nephew even if Mycroft seemed to be doubting them right now.

 

“I know” Michael also sounded confident and Mycroft looked up at him slightly as if shocked at the positivity but then looked away back to the floor.

 

 

“Come on you,” Lestrade reached for the door handle and gestured for Mycroft to follow him.

 

 

 

_Change his nappy and feed him, how hard can that be?  Gregory thinks I can do it and Michael seems confident so why is my heart hammering? Why do I feel sick? Why am I shaking?  Come on Myc, breathe, count slowly and breathe, one step at a time, you can do this, trust them they trust you. Follow Gregory, one step at a time._

_Isn’t he just adorable? How can someone locked in here for so long look so alive and happy? He looks like he’s been playing with those pictures.  We should get him some crayons when we get him home, he’s good at drawing with his fingers but how will he hold a pen? Is it a natural thing? I always could, I think, so maybe he will, if not he’ll learn I guess._

_The door’s open! We’re going in, on our own, just me and Gregory!  What would I do without Gregory here to help me? What will I do when he goes home? Shit! He’s going home.  Did I say that out loud? He’s looking at me like I did.  So much for me being the smart one, Sherlock knew what I needed when he sent Gregory with me but it’s going to hurt to go home.  Maybe we could stay here, if I get this wrong Michael won’t let us leave._

_Breathe you bastard!  How could you even think that? He wouldn’t stay forever, he has a life and if you hurt Frazer, on fucking purpose, you won’t need Gregory or Michael to kill you; you’ll do the job yourself.  Breathe two three four, out two three four, in two three four, out two three four._

_Right, the food’s ready on the triangle, you’ve got the stuff and Gregory’s looking at you with those eyes that make everything ok so trust him, remember the steps.  Blanket first, lay it out soft side up, the floor feels hard, crawling must be uncomfortable; we need to buy carpet for home._

_Nappy open and ready, tabs to the floor, wipes on the other side and a bag to put the old one in._

_I hope he doesn’t move more than the doll, how have I got to middle age without doing this? Stop with the Stupid questions idiot!  The answer is the bullshit you spout about not caring for people.  God I’m a fuck up!_

_Gregory’s looking at me, do you think he knows? Do you think he cares, really or is it all a put on for Sherlock? Do you think it’s all a trick?  He couldn’t could he? He couldn’t look at me in a way that feels like arms around me if he was putting it on could he?  Would he?_

_Breathe Myc Breathe, slowly, calm yourself down, you have to speak now, quietly, say it carefully, with a smile, don’t scare him._

“Frazer, come here Frazer.”

 

 

_He grinned, Shit he grinned at me!  Gregory looks like he’s going to cry but he’s grinning at me too, I think I might be grinning back!  Breathe, Myc, Breathe.  Calm down, focus, Frazer’s coming, and he knows he’s called Frazer!! Breathe, calm._

_Right he’s here, lying down in front of you, you have to do this now._

_I can’t, I can’t do this I’m an idiot!_

_Trust those that trust you Myc, they know you can do this.  Give Frazer the towel, he knows what to do, just give it to him and sit back on your heels, watch him, isn’t he clever? Isn’t he adorable? Isn’t he just like Sherlock?_

_I can’t do this! I can’t!! I can’t breathe, fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I can’t!_

_Look at Gregory, take your eyes off Frazer NOW and look at Gregory.  Look at his hand on the floor next to your knee, inches away but not touching.  Look at him next to you, close, calm, relaxed and smiling at you.  Those eyes on you, he trusts you, he believes in you._

_He might but I can’t, I can’t touch someone who can’t see me, I can’t be the person who does that to someone else, what if I hurt him, what if he’s scared like I was, not being able to see what’s happening, not being able to see what your uncle is doing to you. Fuck I’m crying now. Shit Greg looks scared, I wish I could speak, I wish I could ask, please god let him hear my brain._

_Breathe Myc, breathe.  That hand feels warm on my back, so warm and calm, he still looks scared though, for god sake smile at him and stop crying you idiot. Breathe, smile, breathe. Gregory trusts you; he’s clearly not letting you go so come on, you can do this._

_Unfasten the tabs, left then right, pull down the front.  Thank god he’s not a mess, Gregory can do that one in the morning, use the wipes and wash him over, come on Myc you can do this. He’s lifted his bottom, pull that one out and put the new one under.  Nearly there, breathe, you can do this breathe, fasten right tab, fasten left, pull your hands away and for god sake grab Gregory’s other hand and hold tight.  Breathe, slow and steady, breathe and smile at Gregory._

_God he looks proud of me, why would he be proud of a fucking idiot like me? I don’t deserve it; he’s too good for me. He can’t really mean the things he’s said.  He’s going home tomorrow, back to Sherlock._

_Stop thinking idiot and get back to Frazer, try not to be sad if this doesn’t work ok, there’s time yet but let’s try ok?  Tap his nose, lean forward and tap his nose, come on Myc you can do it._

_He grinned, he really grinned.  And again, he’s smiling at me, at me, like he’s actually happy to play with me.  Don’t cry, he’s too little to understand, DO NOT CRY.  Grin at him, and again and again, shit he giggled, I nearly touched his cheek!_

_Gregory’s eyes are watering, put your hand on his shoulder for god sake, his hands still on your back, he won’t mind._

_He clearly didn’t mind but he’s still crying and Frazer keeps grinning at me when he lifts the towel, I can’t do this much longer.  Too much input._

_Supper time. Remember what to do, catch the towel, grin and then send him off for his food._

_It worked, he’s gone, I did it!  I wonder if he’s ever had warm food. It all looks nice and the milk’s warm but I wonder if he’s had real hot food?_

_Grab the stuff, don’t worry about folding it just grab it.  Let’s get out of here and give him a bit of peace before playtime._

_Frazer’s watching us leave and Gregory still has his hand on my back, I just changed his nappy, we’re going home tomorrow._

_Shit! We’re going home tomorrow!!_

“That was amazing” Lestrade still had his arm wrapped around Mycroft’s back and they were walking quickly towards their room. “It looked bloody intense though, you ok?”

 

Mycroft didn’t speak until they made it through the door of their room and he slammed it closed behind him.  “Thank you for hearing me in there, that was awful, I cannot do that again.”

 

“I’m glad I heard you right,” Lestrade smiled sitting down on Mycroft’s bed and tapping the space next to him.  Mycroft quickly filled the gap and Lestrade’s arm slipped back around him “you did brilliantly, he was happy to play so you must have.”

 

“I can’t do that while he can’t see me, I can’t be the uncle who does things while he can’t see, the towel has to go and it has to go quickly.”

 

“Jesus!” Lestrade turned his body slightly so he could pull Mycroft close and put both arms around him.  “You will never be your fucking uncle, you know that right? He was bastard, you, however, are fucking awesome!”

 

Lestrade kissed the top of Mycroft’s head “Absolutely fucking awesome!”


	17. Chapter 17

“Anthea, is everything arranged?”  Mycroft hadn’t even got out of bed to make the call, he hadn’t slept much but Lestrade had managed to persuade him to put off making the call until seven rather than when they’d been down to feed and change Frazer at five o’clock which Mycroft had himself thought was reasonable.

 

“Good, good. Have all the locks been checked and the build is of good quality?”

 

“You must not inform my brother, I assume that his surveillance remains tight?”

 

Lestrade buried his face in the pillow to try and cover a giggle as he marvelled at Mycroft’s ability to sound like the ruler of the world while curled up in his arms dressed in only his pyjamas.

 

“All is go at twenty two hundred hours; I trust that you will ensure our success.”

 

Mycroft shut down the phone and pushed it under his pillow as he turned in Lestrade’s arms and kissed him gently on the end of his nose before he smiled at him.  “The builders are finished, everything is ready and Anthea assures me that all will go to plan.”

 

“It looks like we’re going home then.”

 

“Indeed it does.”  The smile had gone from Mycroft’s face but he was clearly thinking about something so Lestrade just looked at him and waited for him to work out what he wanted to say, tightening his arms around him slightly in encouragement.

 

“Thank you for coming here with me, I know that you have a life to get back to but I am grateful that you were willing to take some time away to help me make arrangements for my sister.  It has been far easier to deal with than I had expected, even with the surprise of Frazer, and that is down to your presence so thank you and I hope that work has not piled up too much on your desk when you return.”

 

“Is that a,”  Lestrade let go of Mycroft and pulled himself away, sitting up against the headboard and scratching his head.  “Is that it? Is that my dismissal? Geez, right, ok, I get it.”  Lestrade stumbled from the bed, grabbed his wash bag and hurried away for a shower without a backwards glance.

 

 

 

 

He ran the water hot, as hot as he could cope with and he felt it run heavy from his head to his toes as he fought against his body’s intense desire to cry.  He’d been stupid, he knew he had, but as the days had gone by and as Mycroft seemed to be letting him closer to him and actually relaxing with him he’d thought that this was more than a job that he’d been sent to do, he’d thought, especially given Mycroft’s encouragement of his relationship with Frazer, that whatever this was it wasn’t simply going to end because they got to go home.

 

A holiday romance in a fucking prison was not what he thought he’d been having but then maybe Mycroft had just been happy to tap into the care he knew he gave Sherlock, maybe that’s what Sherlock had sent him here to do? 

 

He suddenly gave up on trying to prevent the tears and instead he sat down under the shower, wrapping his arms around himself and gave in to them, letting all the emotions of the last few days leave his body and wash away like dirt down the drain.

 

After a while there was a knock on the door and a shouted ‘are you ok Gregory?’ but he decided to ignore it in favour of washing his hair and having a shave before getting himself dry and dressed. 

 

Looking at himself in the mirror Lestrade could only shake his head. “You are a fucking idiot Greg, a total fucking idiot!”

 

 

 

“Come eat your breakfast.”  Mycroft spoke as Lestrade stepped through the door back into their room.

 

“I’ll eat later thanks, not hungry.”

 

“But,” Mycroft paused and picked up a bowl off the drawer top offering it towards Lestrade, “it’ll get cold if you don’t eat it now.”

 

“Cold? Breakfast’s always cold around here.”  Lestrade had his back to Mycroft and was shoving things into his holdall, ready for going home.

 

“I, erm.” 

 

At the obvious pause Lestrade turned in concern, even if he’d misread everything else this week one thing he knew for sure was that Mycroft didn’t get confused with his words unless there was a real problem.

 

“You what?”  It sounded harsher than he intended and Mycroft visibly flinched before the shutters came down with amazing speed and he pulled himself straight, addressing Lestrade as if he was, well, as if he wasn’t Lestrade.

 

“I called the kitchen and requested a warm breakfast for you.  I apologise for the assumption that you would appreciate it.” And with that he put the bowl down and almost ran to the en-suite, slamming the door and bolting it behind him.

 

 

Lestrade dropped his bag and moved to pick up the bowl Mycroft had left. Weetabix with hot milk and lots of sugar.  He shook his head and sat down on the bed, tucking into his breakfast with a gusto he hadn’t managed to muster in relation to the cold milk and crispy things he’d been subjected to all week, and tried to work out how he was going to fix his obvious misunderstanding.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Thank you for this,”

 

Mycroft emerged from the bathroom dressed for the day and raised his hand to silence Lestrade as he spoke, “We do not have time for this now, we are due with Frazer, he will be expecting us.”  He didn’t even look at Lestrade as he spoke and he walked straight out through the bedroom door into the corridor, not even holding the door for Lestrade to follow.

 

Arriving at Frazer’s room Lestrade opened the door and quickly entered settling himself on the floor by the glass and Mycroft shuffled in behind him, sitting about three feet away.  Frazer was sat on his bed, holding a piece of paper and when Mycroft said his name he glanced up at them and smiled before quickly crawling towards them, dragging his picture with him.  As he got closer to the glass Frazer looked between the two of them at the points where their hands were resting on the glass and then back to their faces before he sat down on his bottom in the middle of the gap and picked up his picture again, studying it carefully.

 

Frazer looked from his picture to Mycroft and Lestrade and then back again three times before he crawled closer to the glass, laid the picture on the floor in the gap between them and sat down in front of it.  The picture was the one of Mycroft and Lestrade that Michael had given him only a couple of days ago, the one with hearts around both their faces, the photo that had made Lestrade feel all kinds of weird when he’d first seen it and the one that had made Mycroft’s eyes smile despite the presence of his professional mask.

 

Lestrade looked at the confused stare he was getting from Frazer and smiled at him earning a small curl of his lips in return, there was absolutely no doubt that this boy was a Holmes, fourteen months old and sharp as anything and, it appeared, as good as his still unmet uncle at making Lestrade realise his care for Mycroft.

 

Winking, and being surprised when Frazer tried to mirror it, Lestrade shuffled across the floor until he was sat directly in front of Frazer’s picture, and a smaller distance from Mycroft, and when he put his hand on the glass Frazer instantly mirrored it with his own before his eyes turned to Mycroft and Lestrade tried to pretend he wasn’t watching while keeping a very good eye on him.

 

The way Mycroft noticeably squirmed under Frazer’s glare told Lestrade just how insecure Mycroft was about their situation and how much he’d misread what Mycroft had said to him in bed earlier.  The realisation of ‘in bed’ with Mycroft had Lestrade wanting to punch himself in the face at his own stupidity.  Mycroft homes, wrapped in his arms, kissing his nose and telling him he hoped work wasn’t going to take up too much of his time when they got home was in no way a dismissal, if anything it was quite the opposite and then the breakfast, the breakfast that Mycroft clearly thought was disgusting, provided to say sorry for something that was all his reaction not Mycroft’s mistake, how could he have been so stupid?  The answer of course was his own insecurity which had clearly taken a backseat to his concerns about Mycroft this week.

 

Without moving his left hand from the glass Lestrade leaned closer to Mycroft and placed his right hand, palm up on the floor between them, hoping that Mycroft would understand and Frazer giggled with delight when he did.  Grabbing Lestrade’s hand as if it was a lifeline flung into the sea Mycroft crossed the gap between them, bringing himself flush with Lestrade’s side and matching his hand to Frazer’s on the glass.

 

 

 

An hour of face pulling and giggling, of arm stretching and foot stamping, of shape drawing and word writing and of face drawing and kiss blowing passed quickly, and without Mycroft and Lestrade ever letting go of each other, and Frazer grinned and giggled and even made attempts at copying his name when Mycroft or Lestrade said it, but eventually he tired of the input and waved at them before crawling away towards his bed, taking his picture with him, and curling up with it in his fingers as the men left him to his rest.

 

 

 

“A Holmes if ever I knew one that kid!”  Lestrade laughed as they walked down the corridor, hand in hand.

 

“The smartest of the family I consider.”  Mycroft sounded less amused with his assessment but he squeezed Lestrade’s hand as he said it and he didn’t let go until they were back in their room and he’d sat on his bed, pulling Lestrade down to sit next to him, at which point he only let go of Lestrade’s hand so that he could cup his chin and run his thumb along his cheek bone before kissing him softly.

 

“It was not a dismissal, I am sorry that it came across that way, I am not good at this.  You have so often read my mind in a silent room this week rather than me actually speaking and before this week, well you know what was before this week, I am very sorry.”

 

Lestrade didn’t really know what to say to that, he wanted to apologise for the misunderstanding and for his harsh words and he wanted to tell Mycroft why he’d been so upset when he thought he’d passed his usefulness and he wanted to say nearly a hundred other things but in the end all he managed was “I cried in the shower.” 

 

Lestrade wasn’t sure if he was more shocked by his own admission or by the fact that Mycroft suddenly sprang forward, wrapping both arms around his back, and pulled him close in against his chest, rubbing his back slowly, and kissed the top of his head, but whichever it was made him nuzzle his head into Mycroft’s shoulder and wrap his arms around his back, shifting his hands up inside his jacket to grasp the hem of his waistcoat to hold on tight.

 

 

 

Mycroft rocked him slowly and rubbed his back gently for a few minutes before gently repositioning them and pulling Lestrade down on to the bed so that he could lie next to him and wrap his whole body around him as he started to talk.  “I can’t wait to leave here Gregory but I have nothing to go home to, no one will have missed me, there has been no gap in anyone’s life because I am not there, I don’t exist outside of my position with the government and I do not want to go back to that.  I hope work hasn’t piled up on your desk because I do not want you to go back to working all the time.  You have work, you have Sherlock and John and Rosie, you have Molly, you have Sally and Anderson and Mrs Hudson, you have so many people in your life, you really don’t need me and my situation and Frazer and his taking up your time.  As much as I want to leave here, I really do not want to go back.”

 

Lestrade pulled back in his arms so that he could look him in the eye, “We’re not going back, we couldn’t if we wanted to but we are going home, you, me and Frazer, the boy has spoken after all.”  Lestrade grinned and Mycroft smiled at him, “All the people you listed, bar Sally and Anderson who are people I work with not my friends you know, are yours as much as they’re mine. To quote a genius of my acquaintance ‘family isn’t always blood’ but it is always family.”

 

“They hate me, and rightly so.”

 

“Bollocks, they don’t hate you and it certainly wouldn’t be rightly so if they did.  You were a fucking kid and one who had been let down by those who should have loved you and cared for you.  We love you and one way or another we’re all going to come out of this ok.”

 

“You do?”  Mycroft narrowed his eyes at Lestrade.

 

“Yes,” Lestrade paused minutely knowing Mycroft would pick up the emphasis, “I do.”

 

The kiss he received in return was not a gentle peck on the lips that Mycroft had initiated before, it was careful and full of nerves and lasted only a few seconds but it made very clear to Lestrade that his feelings were very much appreciated.


	18. Chapter 18

 

“So, do you have space at yours for me?”  Lestrade asked with a grin.

 

“Most certainly.  The guest suite has been prepared, a set of keys have been cut and your security details have been uploaded to the alarm system.”  Mycroft smiled but Lestrade looked less happy

 

“The guest suite?”

 

“There is a bedroom, a small sitting room and a bathroom.”

 

Lestrade laughed, “You realise you just described by entire flat, right?”

 

“My house has many rooms but I use very few, I thought that you would appreciate the space when you stayed over.  I would not be presumptuous enough to suggest that you should move in entirely and it is certainly not practical for you to share my room when we get back so the guest suite seemed like the most appropriate arrangement.”

 

Lestrade could feel himself tensing and he knew that he was only seconds from getting off the bed and locking himself in the bathroom again because this was all too confusing for him but he tried his best to stay calm while he worked out what the hell was going on in Mycroft’s brain.

 

“Are you ready to take care of Frazer on your own?  You’ve kept a good eye on me doing his nappies since yesterday but you said you wouldn’t do them until the towel’s gone and we’re not there yet so how will it work if I’m at my place?  You should have been doing playtimes by yourself if I’m not going to be there when he gets home shouldn’t you?”

 

“But you are going to be there, aren’t you? I thought we had just agreed this.”  Mycroft looked confused, the confusion of a man who wasn’t often questioned when he stated arrangements, and Lestrade lifted his hand and ran his thumb gently across the furrows in his brow before kidding them away.

 

“Explain it to me again then, why the guest suite? Why is it obviously not practical to share your room?”

 

“For the first few days we were here you rang Sherlock every evening and updated him on Eurus, and, despite your attempts not to draw it to my attention, I know that you also rang him every afternoon, while I was not in the room, to update him on me.  Last night he did not take your call.  Since then you have sent twenty three text messages and received no response until just a few minutes ago, when, as we walked back up here, you got a reply which made you grin and then, for a fraction of a second your face dropped before you recovered your smile.”

 

“And what does that have to do with this?”  Lestrade was almost sure he knew what the link was but he didn’t like admitting it.

 

“It is clear that having spent a few days recovering, and dealing with his relationship with Doctor Hooper, Sherlock has been out on a case, quite probably without John who is understandably reluctant to be in a different country to Rosamund at the moment even if only for a short while.  It would seem that he has almost solved the case, not quite but within a day or two he will have it all cleaned up and he will be heading back to London.   My brother will be in need of post case care and you greatly desire to be there for him.  You cannot do that if you are sharing my room, but you can do as you wish in the guest suite, hence it has been prepared for you.”

 

“So the guest suite is for me and Sherlock tomorrow night if he wants it?”  Mycroft nodded.  “What if he doesn’t? Would it then be practical for me to share your room with you?” Lestrade raised his eyebrows and smiled wickedly.

 

“If that were to be the case then I am sure that sharing my bedroom would be most practical, yes.”

 

“Okay then, if that’s what makes you happy.”

 

“I have much hope that in a short time Sherlock and Miss Hooper will progress their relationship to a point where you will not be required but at this time I cannot and will not take you from my brother.  He lent you to me because he knew I needed you but it was only a loan, you have been away from him for far too long already given all that he has recently discovered about his family and about himself.”

 

“You know you’re making me sound like some tatty old family teddy bear right?”  Lestrade laughed and Mycroft leaned close kissing him gently,

 

“Not old or tatty and much nicer to cuddle than a teddy bear.”

 

With a huff of laughter Lestrade wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer, “So you’re ok with the idea of me spending the first night we’re back in London in your house but not with you?” 

 

Mycroft nodded, “It will be far more agreeable than not having you in the house at all.  I am rather reluctant to return to that house and especially if I have to do so alone.”

 

“How’s that going to work though? We can’t have Frazer and Sherlock in the same house but not tell them about each other.  That’s not going to work, even when Sherlock’s brain is almost offline and coming down from a case, and how will I explain disappearing all the time?”

 

It was clear that Mycroft hadn’t thought about that because all the happiness at the thoughts of getting out of Sherrinford suddenly drained from his face. “Fuck!”

 

“Wow” Lestrade laughed, “I don’t hear language like that from you often.”

 

“You obviously haven’t shared my bedroom often enough Gregory, it is where I do most of my swearing!”

 

“You what?!”  Lestrade pushed himself up on his elbow and stared down at Mycroft trying not to laugh but failing badly.

 

“Shit!”  Mycroft’s face took on the exact shade of an over ripe tomato and he rolled on to his side, away from Lestrade, and pulled the covers up over his head just as Lestrade burst out laughing.

 

“I really and truthfully,” Mycroft’s voice was quiet and muffled by the duvet covering his head, “didn’t mean what you think I meant.”

 

Lestrade was still laughing but he did feel a bite of worry gnawing at the edge of his brain so he reached over and tried to pull the duvet from over Mycroft’s head, “Come on Myc, no need to hide from me.”

 

His face was still bright red but Lestrade was relieved to see that he was laughing as the duvet came free from his grip and he turned back to look at him, “I have never voluntarily done the things that you are no doubt imagining that I was referring to.” Mycroft was grinning and his eyes were sparkling and there was absolutely no pain in saying it although it hurt Lestrade’s whole body to hear the word ‘voluntarily’ added to the statement. “My bedroom is my one private space in the world, there is no one around to hear me and I can say all the things that I would never say to people’s faces, it is very therapeutic.”

 

“I bet it is,” Lestrade winked at him, “You will have noticed that I don’t restrict myself in such a fashion though.”

 

“I had noticed that yes.” Mycroft leant up to steal a kiss before he continued.  “It is very refreshing after spending my life dealing with people who never say what they really mean!  I am given to wonder however, whether you exercise more control in your bedroom in order to compensate?” 

 

When Mycroft winked at him, something he very rarely did, Lestrade could think of only one appropriate response, “I guess you’ll have to wait and see,” before he lowered himself down slowly, eyes flitting from Mycroft’s eyes, to his lips and then back to his eyes as he lifted his hand to cup his chin and gently brought their lips together.

 

Mycroft’s lips were soft and warm and they moulded to Lestrade’s without resistance, his hand raised to cradle Lestrade’s chin and then, in a move that made Lestrade moan loudly against him Mycroft parted his lips slightly and ran his tongue deftly across Lestrade’s lips, encouraging him to part them and Lestrade really didn’t need much encouragement to comply.

 

Mycroft’s tongue was soft, long and rather agile as he darted it into Lestrade’s mouth and curled it around his tongue, pulling him closer and tipping his head to allow better access to his mouth.  He moved his tongue in and out slowly, massaging his lips, tickling his tongue and coxing noises from Lestrade that he’d never made before.

 

Lestrade felt lightheaded, short of breath, and entirely grounded all at the same time as he weaved his fingers into Mycroft’s hair and gave himself over entirely to his control of the kiss.

 

It lasted mere moments before Mycroft’s alarm went off to alert them of the need to prepare for the last of their daily visits to see Euros before they went home but in that kiss were all the hopes, fears, concerns and promises that words would never have been able to communicate.

 

Mycroft grinned as their lips parted and Lestrade couldn’t resist quickly leaning back down to kiss those grinning lips again before he rolled away, curling up on his side, as Mycroft rolled the other way and did the same, giving his body two minutes to recover its composure before he got up to use the bathroom.

 

When he returned from the bathroom Mycroft was still curled up on the bed, having not moved a muscle and Lestrade smiled to himself but tried to hide it from his voice, “Shall I wait for you in the corridor Myc?”

 

“That isn’t necessary Gregory,” Mycroft began to move from the bed but looked very tense and uncomfortable.

 

“Well then, I’ll concentrate on packing the stuff on my bed while you go to the bathroom shall I?”

 

Lestrade knew what the problem was, it was the same one that he’d had to sort out for himself when he’d stopped being kissed by Mycroft but he was almost sure that I was very rare that Mycroft suffered from such a problem, especially in company, and given that, and the fact that his training told him more than he wished to know about young boys’ bodies involuntary reactions to the things Mycroft had experienced in his life he really didn’t want things to get awkward right now.

 

“Thank you.”  It was a simple reply but it really did say it all and Lestrade’s heart jumped in his chest,

 

“Not a problem Myc, not a problem at all.”

 

 

 

 

A couple of minutes later Mycroft returned from the bathroom and stepped quickly and quietly across the room until he was inches away from Lestrade, who was busily stuffing socks into the end pocket of his holdall, and he wrapped his arms around his waist and nuzzled his head into his shoulder, kissing him below the ear and laughing as he squirmed at the contact.

 

“Problem solved is going to be problem really not solved if you keep doing that and I’m really not doing that in this shithole!”

 

Mycroft laughed and kissed his neck again before releasing him from his arms and stepping back to sit on the bed and put on his shoes.

 

“I give way to your experience and I suggest that we save such things for the first time that it is practical for you to share my bedroom at home.”

 

As he turned to wink and grin at Mycroft Lestrade cursed Sherlock’s intelligence and hoped that it would take him twenty four hours longer than expected to solve his case.


	19. Chapter 19

“We have come to speak with you about Frazer Eurus.”

 

Mycroft was stood, hand against the glass of his sister’s cell, while Lestrade stayed a few feet back, watching and hoping that today would be the day that Eurus finally gave up on ignoring her brother and instead allowed him some hope of recovering what had clearly been a reasonable relationship, given its limitations, before he was suddenly prevented from seeing her.

 

“I appreciate that you are cross with me dear sister and that despite visiting you every day I have been here you do not believe that I am sorry for abandoning you when I was prevented from visiting you but I cannot leave here and I cannot take your son with me without speaking to you about what will happen going forwards.  That would be wrong and you deserve more than that from me.”

 

Eurus didn’t move or respond in any way and as Lestrade saw Mycroft’s posture sag at the lack of reaction he couldn’t stop himself from closing the gap between them slightly and placing his hand in the small of his back, much as he’d done when Mycroft was changing Frazer’s nappy, trying to offer reassurance and comfort, hopefully without stepping over the oddly flexible line between them.

 

When she heard the movement Eurus turned around to look at them and Lestrade wanted to turn away from the eyes that were now studying him.  Holmes eyes, that was clear, but these weren’t the warm intriguing eyes of Mycroft Holmes, the precise, inquisitive eyes of Sherlock Holmes or the gleaming, sparkling eyes of Frazer Holmes these were black, heavy, empty eyes that made Eurus look even scarier than Lestrade had expected despite his knowledge of what she had done to his friends, but he didn’t look away, instead he met her gaze and waited for whatever was to come.

 

“Michael Davies is now in charge of Sherrinford, you appear to have trusted him to care for Frazer and he has done a splendid job given the circumstances.  I hope that you will trust him to take care of you and to keep you safe here.”

 

At the word ‘safe’ Eurus took a small step towards them and then stopped, looking at Mycroft as if she expected him to speak again.

 

“I do not know if he has spoken to you about the future but he has assured me that he does not believe family to be a reward for good behaviour and therefore, with your agreement, I will visit you as often as work and Frazer will allow.”  Euros took another step forward.  “Sherlock would also like to visit you if you are in agreement.” 

 

When his sister took another step towards him Lestrade felt Mycroft’s body start to tremble against his hand and he stepped slightly closer, leaning into his side, and smiled involuntarily at Eurus when she raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“I am sure that mummy and father would like to visit also.”  At the mention of her parents Eurus took a big step backwards, undoing all the progress she had made towards the glass and Mycroft let out a sigh “Do you not wish that to happen?”  Eurus shook her head just slightly.  “Is Sherlock welcome?” she stepped towards him again, “Am I welcome?”  Another step.  “What about Gregory? May he come with me?” Eurus’ eyes seemed to almost smile at that idea.  “May he visit you if I cannot make myself free from work?”

 

Eurus stepped forward again and, despite the glass, Lestrade wanted to take a step back to restore the distance between them.  A trio of Holmes’ was more than he thought he could handle, the idea of adding a fourth to his portfolio just made him want to run away and hide in a darkened room for a few hours.

 

“I think it unlikely that we will be able to bring Frazer back here until he is much older.”

 

“Don’t!” it was almost shouted and Mycroft jumped at his sister’s response, grabbing for Lestrade’s free hand, holding it tightly.

 

He took a few breaths, clearly trying to recover from memories that flashed into his head at the sound of his sister’s shouting. “Don’t what? My dear.”  Mycroft’s voice was shaking and his eyes were wide and Lestrade could only imagine how much worse this had been last week when there hadn’t been glass between them and Eurus had all the power and control.

 

“Don’t bring him back here, EVER!”  The sound boomed from the speakers.

 

“I won’t Eurus, I promise I won’t.”  Mycroft was nodding repeatedly and tears were running down his cheeks “I promise I won’t, I’ll keep him safe, I promise.”

 

Mycroft collapsed to his knees in front of the glass and he lent his forehead against it rubbing his eyes with the cuff of his shirt to try and dry up the tears.  Lestrade knelt down beside him, rubbing his back and looking at him with concern but he sprang away in shock when he looked up to find Eurus knelt next to the glass in front of them looking at them with intense eyes and the head tilt of curiosity that he’d thought was cute on Frazer but that now looked completely terrifying.

 

“Wow Eurus, you scared me.”  Lestrade smiled, it’s what he did when he saw people, it was what he’d done the first time he’d met Eurus, and as she tried to smile back he remembered the look he’d received the first time and he couldn’t help being pleased at the lack of the original blankness.  “I know this is weird Eurus, I know that this can’t be easy for you but your big brother is struggling to understand what you want him to do, he doesn’t want to feel like he’s failed you again so it’d be good if you could help us to get this right.”

 

He could hear it and he was sure that Mycroft and Eurus would have picked it up as well but Lestrade couldn’t help the soft tone of his voice and the natural concern that he showed towards victims of cases that were filtering through as he spoke to her.  Eurus seemed to him to be little more than a child in an adult body and she’d just had a rather spectacular mental breakdown so whatever she might have done she still needed careful consideration. 

 

“I don’t know everything that has happened Eurus, not what has happened to you or what you have done to others but I do know that no child should be kept in a place like this and if you want us to keep Frazer away from here then we will but your brother doesn’t want you to be all alone anymore.”

 

Eurus’ gaze softened as she listened to Lestrade,

 

 “I am sorry that you ended up here, I am sorry that you and your brothers have suffered the things you all suffered in your childhoods and in the years since and I am sorry that Frazer has grown up in this place.  I want to help Frazer, I want to help you and your brothers but I need your help to do that.  Do you think you could help me?”

 

Mycroft was watching Lestrade as he spoke to Eurus, eyes blank as if his brain had gone off line for a moment, but as Lestrade asked Eurus for her help he closed the gap between them and curled into Lestrade’s side, wrapping one arm around his back while keeping his other hand on the glass, still apparently hoping that Eurus would at some point meet it there.

 

They all sat looking at each other for a few moments and then Eurus moved forward, placing her hand against the glass where Mycroft’s hand warmed it and she looked at him with what Lestrade believed to be real affection as Mycroft smiled back his whole body trembled against Lestrade’s side. 

“I know what you have done for me brother, I know what price you paid to keep me safe from our uncle and to keep the world safe from me.  I know that you didn’t abandon me out of choice despite the fact that I deserved to be abandoned for what I have done to you and to Sherlock.”

 

Mycroft continued to tremble against Lestrade’s side as he gazed between his hand and Eurus’ only a glass width apart, so he tightened his arm around him slightly in an attempt to show support.

 

“Take my baby, brother, keep him safe from me and from those who inflicted pain upon us but please do not abandon me for what I have done.”

 

Mycroft sat staring for a second before his brain seemed to click back on line at Eurus’ request not to be abandoned and he sat up straighter and smiled at her.  “If I cannot bring Frazer here may I bring pictures, may I bring you pictures of him?” Mycroft’s eyes lit up and he moved closer to the glass, “Pictures of Frazer? And maybe videos? How would that be?”

 

“That would be fantastic brother, but do not bring him to see me, do not tell him what I am and protect him from those who would hate him for being part of me or who would try and take him from you.  Keep him safe, give him the childhood we Holmes’ never had and maybe,” Eurus paused and tilted her head, this time it seemed far less terrifying although her eyes still stared like they were drilling right into Mycroft’s brain, “take a little childhood for yourself brother.”

 

Eurus turned her head to look at Lestrade and this time he didn’t feel the desire to shrink away from her, “Look after my boy and my brothers inspector and they will look after you.”

 

“They’re better to me than they think they are Eurus,” Lestrade winked at her “and I will do what I can for all of you, I promise.”

 

“Thank you for your patience brother,” Eurus turned her attention back to Mycroft, “and for putting a man with a heart in charge of me when you could have simply left me here to rot.  It is, however time for you to go, I look forward to seeing you, and Sherlock, whenever you are able.”

 

“I promise I will see you soon,” Mycroft got to his knees, ready to stand up, before Lestrade squeezed his hand

 

“Could I?” Lestrade looked at Mycroft, “could I possibly speak to Eurus on my own? If she doesn’t mind?”  Lestrade flashed a questioning glance at Eurus and she didn’t offer any argument.

 

“Er, well, erm.”  Mycroft looked between them and then stood up, straightening his suit quickly. “I will see you soon sister; I promise that I will look after Frazer for you.”

 

Eurus nodded, “Goodbye dear brother.” And Mycroft turned to leave, only letting go of Lestrade’s hand when the distance between them became too great, and disappeared through the door.

 

 

 

 

With all her attention focused on him Lestrade felt his shoulders tighten and he missed having the touch of Mycroft’s hand to distract him but he tried his best not to show any of the fear he naturally felt in the face of someone smart enough to outwit both Mycroft and Sherlock and someone who could take control of everything just be the use of her words.

 

“Is it over?”  It was a simple question, and one Lestrade didn’t really expect a truthful answer to but he needed to ask it.  When he walked out of Sherrinford this evening he needed to at least be able to pretend that his friends were safe now.

 

“Sherlock never visited, I missed him.  Mycroft stopped visiting, I missed him more.  They locked my baby up, he needed someone.  I am unstable, my brain is wired incorrectly.  The adults of my childhood forced my poor brother to be my jailer and my protector and they did things to him that he should not have endured, forcing him into a prison that was far worse than my own but my brothers care for their parents even if I do not.”

 

“Do you know,” Lestrade couldn’t stop himself interrupting, he himself had rather a lot of things he wanted to scream and shout at Mycroft’s parents for somehow raising three such messed up kids but they had thought that their daughter was dead; they didn’t visit because they didn’t know that she was alive not because they didn’t want to. “Your parents were told that you’d died, they didn’t know you were here.”

 

“They didn’t?” Eurus leant forward, closer to the glass and face to face with Lestrade, staring into his eyes, presumably reading his brain to see if he was telling the truth. “Then they may visit me eventually as long as they make no attempt to deprive Mycroft of his son.”

 

“His what?” The words were out before Lestrade could stop them,

 

Eurus curled her lips into the best, but still rather creepy, smile she could manage and looked Lestrade in the eye, “Mycroft has a son now, with your help he will raise him to be more than a Holmes.  I will never hurt them, any of them. In answer to your question inspector, everything is over now.  I will grow old solving puzzles, locked behind this glass, knowing that my son has two fathers who will protect him and an uncle who will teach him to be a pirate.”

 

Lestrade wasn’t all that sure what he was supposed to say to that, and that was before his brain even came close to processing the ‘two fathers’ bit but Eurus seemed convincing, she seemed like she was telling the truth and all he could really do right now was believe her.  “Thank you, I promise that Mycroft, Sherlock and I will be back to see you soon and we’ll bring photos of Frazer.  Once your parents know about all this I’ll personally let you know if they agree to your condition or not before they come anywhere near. Is that ok?”

 

Eurus nodded.

 

“Well then I think it’s time for me to go and prepare everything, and to check on your brother.”

 

Eurus stood up as soon as Lestrade did and she tried to smile at him, not that it was really convincing but it was better than the blankness. “Goodbye inspector.”

 

Lestrade turned towards the door and then looked back and smiled and waved “see you soon.”

 

 

 

 

Mycroft had made his way to their room and he was busy packing the last of his clothes into the top of his rucksack when Lestrade walked in, “you ok?”

 

Mycroft sniffed as he turned around and smiled through the tears that kept running down his cheeks, “I am yes, not that these tears would suggest that.”

 

“Happy tears happen you know, it’s normal when emotions are overwhelming, they leak out of your eyes so your head doesn’t explode.”  Lestrade winked and Mycroft laughed.

 

“I never thought she would speak to me again.”

 

Stepping quickly across the room Lestrade wrapped his arms around Mycroft as he leant down and kissed him gently, “she doesn’t blame you, she knows the truth, so there’s only your brain left to convince and you’re doing a pretty fine job of that I’d say.” He cupped his cheek, lifting his chin so he could kiss him again, this time a little less gently,

 

“Mummy and father will blame me and Sherlock will blame me for Frazer, how did she even get pregnant? I was responsible for her safety and she was not safe, I am responsible for that even if I can abdicate responsibility for everything else.”

 

“Uncle Rudi is the one responsible, he made the secrets, he made you keep them and I’d wager Eurus hit close to home with the bastard making you do things to keep her safe,”. Lestrade wasn’t looking for confirmation of that, that was not why he’d said it, what he wanted was for Mycroft to know that he’d understood what Eurus had said and that there was no need to discuss it. “You were a kid who had been dragged far too far into this situation before you had any control at all over it.  People might blame you, initially they might go that way, but anyone who matters will come round to the truth and anyone who doesn’t simply doesn’t matter.”

 

“That simple is it Gregory? I go home, play uncle Myc to a boy in a cell and if people don’t like it they can lump it?”

 

Lestrade laughed almost nervously “Eurus doesn’t want Frazer to live with his uncle Myc.”

 

Mycroft tensed in his arms and his eyes flew wide in panic “What? But.”

 

Lestrade kissed his forehead gently and then leaned down close to his ear, tightening his arms just slightly, “she wants him to have a daddy and a pirate playing uncle.” 

 

As the words registered Mycroft’s knees buckled and Lestrade used his grip around his waist to manoeuvre him backwards to sit on the bed. “She told me that she wants you to be his dad” he decided to leave out the two dads thing; there was no need for anyone to feel that Eurus was instructing lifetime commitment upon them right now.  “And, after I explained that your parents didn’t know that she was alive, she said that they could visit but only if they didn’t try and take Frazer from you.”

 

“I can’t be” Mycroft tensed the muscles of his face and neck, clenching his jaw and scrunching his eyes tight, and pushed the tips of his fingers hard across his scalp a few times before he finally finished his sentence, “I can’t be Frazer’s father, he needs someone less fucked up than me.”

 

“We’re taking him home, you’ve always been clear that we’re taking him home so what difference does it make? What is the difference between being his uncle and bringing him up and being his dad and doing the same? The only difference I can see is that you could stop likening yourself to your bloody uncle and stop worrying that you’re going to turn into a twat like him!”

 

Lestrade felt sick the moment he said it but his brain had run away with him and the words had left his mouth without being properly filtered by his brain.  Mycroft however looked far less displeased with the words.

 

“Good point well made as ever Gregory and without all the drama of last time.”  Mycroft winked and grinned and Lestrade shook his head and rolled his eyes at him, “Thank you for your ever present voice of reason, I would be lost without you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about this chapter, I spent ages trying to get Eurus to sound right but I just couldn't quite get it :-(


	20. Chapter 20

Manoeuvring a small boy, inside a weird egg shaped bed box, down two flights of stairs, along a narrow corridor, out through a door, across a beach and up the ramp of a beach lander was about as difficult as it sounded like it would be, even with the help of James and Michael, but it was nothing compared to trying to take Fraser in through the door and down the short flight of stairs to the newly built cell in the basement of Mycroft’s huge house. 

 

That trip, done by just the two of them, had been the hardest thing either of them had ever done, physically and emotionally, but by five am Fraser was safely installed in his new home and, having changed his nappy and left him to his breakfast Lestrade found himself sat in the biggest, poshest kitchen he had ever seen, watching Mycroft heat milk in a small pan on the stove while arranging Weetabix into two bowls.

 

“You aren’t really going to do this are you Myc?”

 

“Do what?” Mycroft turned around and leant back on the counter, crossing his arms across his chest and his feet at the ankles “make you breakfast?”

 

Lestrade stretched his arms above his head and his legs out in front of his chair, under the table.  “I was thinking more you eating it to be honest.”

 

“You like it, it’s a happy childhood memory for you, I don’t have many of my own so I thought that I might try stealing one of yours.  I may well live to regret it but I will try anything once.”

 

“Lots of sugar, that’s the key,” he gave another stretch, his body making all kinds of weird noises as it pulled and clicked back into place, “and coffee, always coffee.”

 

Mycroft flicked the switch on the coffee maker, filling two large cups, scooped another large spoonful of sugar into each bowl and then shared the milk between them before placing breakfast on the table in front of Lestrade and sitting down next to him.  “Here goes nothing!”

 

Lestrade laughed around his spoon as he dug into his breakfast with great enthusiasm, they’d eaten well at Sherrinford, compared to what he’d expected anyway, but being back in London seemed to have increased his appetite rather forcefully. 

 

He watched, out of the corner of his eye, as Mycroft tried his first, very small, spoonful of his breakfast. It was clear from the wideness of his eyes and the almost grimace on his lips that Mycroft was troubled by what he was about to put in his mouth but when he finally forced the spoon through his lips and the sweet warmth met his tongue he made a noise that raised the colour of his cheeks and made Lestrade smile.  The second spoonful followed quickly, then the third and he didn’t stop until he had scraped the bowl clean at which point he looked up and met the warm eyes that were watching him with a smile.

 

“Totally disgusting right?”

 

“Truly horrible,” it was said with a smirk and the warmth in it made Lestrade want to do all kinds of things that he was almost sure he was allowed to do now that they were home but almost wasn’t quite enough for him to risk it so he took a big gulp of his coffee and thought about the plans for the day instead.

 

“When the twins were born Sarah and Dave were still living with Dave’s mum, they were waiting for the house they were buying to be vacated and the little ones were rather eager, turning up at about thirty five weeks, so Sarah spent her first eight weeks of motherhood feeling like she was being watched by an expert the whole time.  Janice, Dave’s mum, couldn’t be more laid back and less interfering if she tried, and they get on brilliantly, but I remember Sarah saying how much more relaxed she felt about looking after Phillip and Lillian once she was out of her mother in law’s territory.  I think I know what she meant now!”

 

Mycroft nodded, almost involuntarily, in agreement “Michael has been nothing but supportive of this move but you are correct, Frazer feels much more like our responsibility now that he’s home.”

 

“He does that!  So what’s the plan for today? What are we going to achieve?”

 

“We’re getting rid of that bloody towel!” It was a clear statement of intent and Lestrade knew how much more comfortable Mycroft would be once Frazer wasn’t being kept in the dark while people did things to him so he smiled in agreement.  “If you are going to tell Sherlock about him when he’s here,” Mycroft flashed a guilty look at Lestrade who waved his hand at him.

 

“None of that ok?  I said I’d tell him everything when he’s back in the country and I will, no guilty looks needed and certainly no actual guilt alright?”

 

Mycroft nodded just slightly, “I will try but I am not practiced at other people helping me.”

 

“You’ll get used to it eventually because I’m not going to stop and I’m pretty sure Sherlock feels the same.”

 

“Maybe,” Mycroft’s demeanour suddenly clicked more into work mode “but he may not if he sees how our nephew has been living for the first fourteen months of his life, it is more likely that he will trust me with Frazer if we can show him the progress that we have already made.”

 

“That makes sense,” it did, sort of, except that Lestrade was sure that Sherlock cared for his brother enough for Frazer’s existence, and his situation, to be irrelevant, “so we’re not taking the towel with us next time?”

 

“Nope”

 

“Can we stop with the silence, but for his name, at play time thing as well?”

 

“We can try if you want; I’m not sure what we might say to him though?  Do you know any nursery rhymes?”

 

“Not really, I’ll ring Sarah after I’ve unpacked and see if she can teach me some.”

 

“That will be an interesting conversation,” Mycroft cast gleaming inquisitive eyes at him, “how will you explain the need for that information?”

 

Lestrade thought for a moment, bringing his hand up to rub his chin and gazing into the distance, as if this was the hardest question he had ever been asked, before he winked and grinned “I’ll tell her I’m dating a guy with a baby and I want to impress him, she will instantly be very helpful.”

 

“Dating?” Mycroft repeated the word, testing the sound in his mouth, as if it was an alien concept that he couldn’t decide if he liked or not.

 

“That not a good word?”

 

“It is a word that will justify your request to your sister.”

 

“Well that’s an answer to not quite the question I was asking,” Lestrade stood up from the table, grabbing his bowl and cup to slip into the dish washer and then he headed for the door, “I’m going to unpack before it’s time to go play if that’s ok.”

 

“That sounds like an agreeable plan; I will do the same and meet you downstairs at eight?”

 

Lestrade knew from the confused tone of Mycroft’s voice that he was unsure as to what had gone wrong and why he was suddenly making his excuses to leave but he just couldn’t have this conversation right now.  He knew that it was his problem, not Mycroft’s, and that it wasn’t fair to try and force the man into what might be considered to be normal social categories just so that he could justify his feelings and explain them to other people but ‘the most dangerous woman on earth has just given me and a minor government official her son and I want to learn songs to sing to him as he’s been kept in a silent cell since he was born and only got a name three days ago’ was not something he could or would ever say even if it was the only truth he could come up with.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It took Lestrade less than ten minutes to conclude that he was either going to have to find the washing machine that must be hiding in the huge kitchen he’d just had breakfast in or he was going to have to go home and pack some more clothes and that ten minutes included the time it took him to wander through his suite and decide that, but for a microwave next to the TV, that provided a ‘means to cook a warm meal’, the suite was more impressive than the accommodation Katie had been provided with when she’d finally taken the step and left Christopher.  It wasn’t as colourful or homely as Katie had made her place by the time he’d been allowed to visit but it did feel just as safe.

 

He put the contents of his wash bag in the bathroom cupboard and hung the one clean shirt in the wardrobe all the time considering Mycroft’s reaction to the concept of dating.  Did he really hate the idea of a relationship now that they were home? And if he did then why had he provided rooms to stay in? Was it just a shock to hear the word or was it only a problem because he’d said that he was going to tell his sister?

 

Lestrade looked around the room in search of a mirror, finding one in the bathroom, and he stood looking himself in the eye for almost two minutes before he made the decision that all he could do was ask and that he really had to ask before they went back to see Frazer because the boy had already had one attempt at making them communicate with each other about a misunderstanding and it really wasn’t fair on him to put him in that position again.

 

Having spent years trying to keep his parents together and mediate their arguments only to have them separate and then become the best of friends and the parents he’d always wanted them to be he knew the need to keep your arguments away from your children.

 

 

 

 

 

“Myc” Lestrade shouted as he stepped through the door of his suite and looked up and down the corridor trying to decide which way to go.  He’d been directed to his room on arrival and to the kitchen, living room, library and to Frazer’s room but Mycroft had given no indication of where his room was so finding it was going to take some thought if he didn’t get a response to his shout.

 

Having listened for a response Lestrade thought for a moment and then headed for the front door, ‘there are lots of rooms in my house but I use very few’ that surely told him all he needed to know to find Mycroft’s room all he had to do was pretend to be a Holmes and why not, it might be fun.

 

Stood at the front door Lestrade considered the floor and the carpet, worn in certain areas but looking good as new in others so he matched his feet to what were clearly well worn Mycroft foot prints on the floor and followed them.  It quickly became clear that the kitchen was a well visited destination on the ground floor but their seemed to be little evidence of anyone spending time in the Living room and library that he’d been pointed towards earlier and the other three doors were covered in dust and looked like they hadn’t been opened in years.

 

Turning in the kitchen doorway Lestrade considered the floor again before glancing at the walls of the hall, noticing a mark at around shoulder height, much like someone had leant on it for support as they walked, much too tired to support themselves and he followed it along the hall and then the mark, and foot prints, turned up the stairs. 

 

Scuffed carpet on the edge of the stairs near the wall, and crisp footprints in the middle of the step, that seemed to be coming the other way gave Lestrade some hope that although Mycroft clearly went up to bed exhausted on more than a few occasions he appeared to manage rest that improved his position for the next day.

 

At the top of the stairs Lestrade looked up and down the corridor, his room was to the right and he’d shouted when he’d left his room and got no response so logic would say go left even if the worn surface of the balustrade, which had clearly been used to pull an exhausted body the last few inches of the rise on more than a few occasions, didn’t.

 

His heart rate picked up slightly, both at the fun of employing holmesian techniques against a Holmes and at the thought of surprising Mycroft in his bedroom, but Lestrade tried to calm himself because, as much as he hated to admit it, right now he was realising why his Holmes boys kept emotion away from their work, the body’s reaction to emotion really was counter-productive for the brain.

 

Almost on tip toe Lestrade followed the path of hardly worn footprints on almost perfect carpet, past three doors on the left and two on the right before he stopped at a door with a shiny metal handle, clearly well used, and took a breath to steady himself before he knocked hard three times.

 

Time ticked by with the door remaining closed and Lestrade tapped his foot and kneaded his forehead with the heel of his hand, resigning himself to having been an idiot and ‘missing the obvious’ as he always did when trying to mimic Sherlock, but as he made to turn away and go back to his room the handle turned and the door clicked open and he came face to face with a rather shocked, and slightly panicked looking, Mycroft.

 

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

“You didn’t,”  Mycroft’s face brightened instantly when he saw who was there, “I was surprised that is all, I realised only a few minutes ago that I had forgotten to provide you with directions to my room when I showed you to yours.  Have you tried many doors before this one?”

 

“Nope!”  Lestrade grinned and walked into the room when Mycroft stepped back and held the door for him, “Just this one.”

 

“How?”  Mycroft looked both confused and impressed, “How did you know that this was my room.”

 

“Well” Lestrade sat on the bed, swinging his legs as it was so high that his feet didn’t actually reach the floor, “When you told me about your house you told me that it had many room but that you used very few, that told me everything I needed to know.”

 

Mycroft could hear the mimic, and his mind flashed back to their conversation about Sherlock and their first meeting, and he quickly crossed the room to the bed, sat down, leaning on the headboard, and pulled Lestrade into his lap “Go on then, impress me with your brain.”

 

Lestrade winked and then leant close for a long and beautiful kiss from Mycroft’s smiling lips, explanations and questions would wait a little longer.

 


	21. Chapter 21

“So dating?”  Lestrade was sat in Mycroft’s lap and Mycroft had been running his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck for a good three minutes of silence and aborted attempts to speak before Lestrade finally raised the issue that Mycroft clearly knew was coming.

 

“You wish to know why I reacted in the manner I did to that word?”

 

“Well yeah, or if the reaction was just about me telling my sister.”

 

“I have no issue with you telling your sister anything, sibling secrets are not something I will ever again encourage.”  Mycroft tensed slightly at the thought but Lestrade was impressed when, without any intervention from him, he took a long steadying breath, his whole body relaxed again, and he kissed him gently on the top of the head. 

 

“We are two, middle aged men, who work hard and find value and purpose in our work.  I am aware that it may not seem so due to how I began in my position or how things have gone so badly wrong recently but I enjoy my work, it gives me purpose and I am good at it.  No amount of nepotism would have gained me the position I have now, that is mine through hard work and commitment.”

 

Lestrade wanted to interrupt and tell him that he didn’t doubt that for a second but he also wanted to get an answer to his question and that probably didn’t need derailing right now.

 

“Neither of us will put work second to anything or anyone, other than Frazer of course, and we will work all the hours required even if it does leave us leaning on walls out of tiredness and leaving trails around our homes for clever detective inspectors to follow.”  Lestrade laughed and sat himself up, moving to sit facing Mycroft, crossing his legs in front of him, he really wanted to hear, and to understand, this because the hug and the kiss felt like he should stay here forever but the words didn’t really match up.

 

“I fear that if we were to date we would eventually frustrate each other and damage our physical and mental health.  I fear that if I was planning on meeting you for dinner I would disregard breakfast and lunch in order to ensure a timely finish at work even though we would only actually make it to dinner one time in four.  I fear that you would work through the night on your paperwork in order to be free to sit in a darkened room, surrounded by people, watching a film with me and that you would fall asleep rather than enjoying it.  I fear that I would find myself angry at Sherlock because he solved a case too quickly or not quickly enough and you were busy with him despite me having a free evening and I fear that you would stop inviting John to the pub, or agreeing to meet him when he asked, in case I was suddenly free and you wanted to see me instead.  I do not see how us dating will ever be successful.”

 

“Well, that’s a hell of a lot of fears Myc; try not to make this all sound too appealing will you?”

Lestrade looked around, trying to find something to focus on while he tried to process what Mycroft had said but he was brought back to himself when warm fingers ran across his chin and up into his hair and he was pulled forward slightly and kissed gently.

 

“You misunderstand me Gregory, I do not wish to date you, I do not wish to make appointments with you, I do not wish to walk you to your door and kiss you goodnight not knowing when I will see you again.”

 

“This still isn’t sounding good you know?” Lestrade could feel his heart beating in his throat and he was trying hard to control the emotion in his voice.

 

“I do not wish to date you Gregory, I wish to split myself up into little pieces and fit myself into every tiny gap in your life, between all the things that make you the beautiful, awesome, amazing man that you are, while you do exactly the same in mine.” 

 

Lestrade felt his while body thrum, his heart quickened, his eyes widened and his skin warmed and he had to put his hands on the bed either side of him to stabilise himself.

 

“I do not wish to take you away from anything or anyone but I wish to enjoy every second of what I can.  I wish to have two breakfast bowls in the dishwasher even if the contents were eaten six hours apart. I wish to share a lunch we made even if I’m eating mine at my desk at eleven thirty while you’re grabbing yours from your pocket at a crime scene at three.  I wish to come home at midnight and find a warm plate of dinner in the oven and you watching Match Of The Day in the living room or to spend time cooking your favourite meal before I sit and eat it and imagine your reaction to it while knowing that I will see it as soon as you can make it home.  I wish to crawl into bed at four in the morning and know, whether you are home or not, that you are there, have been there and will be there as soon as you can and I wish to feel your arms around me as you breathe those last, lengthening breaths, as you fall asleep against my chest every night that I can.”

 

“I don’t wish to date you Gregory Lestrade, I wish to be the place that you call home and for you to be that for me.  Home is, after all, where the heart is.”

 

 

 

Struck dumb was the only term for it, he was sure his wide eyes and open mouth looked exactly like one of the fabled ‘goldfish’ that Sherlock had always suggested his brother should find for himself but at that moment there was nothing he could do about it, his brain was far too busy processing what he’d just heard to divert any energy to making him look less stupid.

 

Mycroft gave him a moment, waiting for a response that never came.

 

“Are you not a fan of that idea Gregory?”  His voice was shaking as all the confidence of his declaration slipped away.

 

“I … erm….”  Lestrade closed his mouth, slapped himself on the cheek and then looked Mycroft right in the eye, “do you mean all that? Really?”

 

Mycroft nodded but said nothing.

 

“You don’t want to date me because we might both let each other down too much so instead you want us to; well I’m not quite sure what the word is.”

 

Mycroft nodded again but still remained quiet,

 

“So I’d work whenever and wherever I needed to and so would you?”  Mycroft nodded.  “I’d have Sherlock stay when he wanted to?”  Another nod. “I’d go out for beers and stuff with John when I wanted?”  Nod “we’d share a meal when we happened to be here together but we’d always make food for both of us?” 

 

“Always” Mycroft nodded again.

 

“Would we take holidays from work together? Like actually take them so we could go away and do dinners, play on the beach, go to the cinema and spend time together with Frazer?”

 

“We certainly would, lots of them.”

 

“So, if I’m getting this right, what you’re saying is that you don’t want to date me because you never want me to actually go home.”  Lestrade grinned and winked and then got to his knees, leaning forward into Mycroft, pushing him back against the headboard and eyeing him wickedly.

 

Mycroft let out a gasp as Lestrade laid himself against him, chest to groin and nibbled playfully at the point under his chin that instantly made him squirm and laugh.  “That’s right, yes,” he gasped between giggles.

 

“Well then,” Lestrade sat back on his knees, looking rather pleased with himself.  “You’d better show me how to use the washer because I have no clean pants!”


	22. Chapter 22

Eight o’clock playtime went without incident, confirming to both of them that the move had gone well and Fraser remained settled, so, having considered all the reading they’d both done about adoption, attachment and working with children who had previously been held captive, the amount of available literature on that issue had thrown a whole new shade of black over Lestrade’s belief in the world, they agreed that moving quickly was what was needed here.

 

They both had another two weeks holiday from work and, if this was going to work, Fraser had to be ready for someone else to look after him while they worked by then which meant they needed him out of that room as soon as possible and their chosen starting move was to have lunch with him in his cell rather than leaving him to his meal.  Sharing food was, after all, a bonding experience between animals and their young.

 

Removal of the towel for nappy changing and sharing a meal were both big steps for Frazer and for Mycroft and Lestrade and, having made the decision as they walked back up the stairs from playtime they had just over two very long hours to wait before they could get on with it which Lestrade felt was an awful long time to wait for something slightly terrifying to happen.

 

 

 

 

“Two hours and nothing to do,” The look in Mycroft’s eye was one Lestrade hadn’t seen before but it made his heart rate suddenly increase, “Sherlock will be here tonight and tomorrow and Frazer will be out of that box and in our living room by the end of the week, meaning we can’t leave him to Anthea’s security camera watch and retire to bed for the afternoon, so?” 

 

Mycroft was stood in the kitchen doorway, leaning back against the door frame, arms folded across his chest, eyes playing up and down Lestrade’s body, twinkling as they met with his eyes and he raised his eyebrows.

 

“You tired?  I guess we could probably do with a nap.” 

 

“A nap was not exactly what I was suggesting but if you are in need of one then we can most certainly do that instead.”

 

Lestrade picked his coffee cup up off the counter and drank the entire contents of the rather hot cup in three large mouthfuls before he left the cup on the table and crossed the room, crowding Mycroft back against the door frame, enjoying the reaction the sudden proximity earned him, and whispered. “Coffee takes care of tiredness, now I can take care of you.” in Mycroft’s ear.

 

Mycroft wrapped his arms around Lestrade’s waist, pulling him close against him and kissing him hungrily as Lestrade’s hands drifted up his sides and ran into his hair before he ran his thumb along his jaw, feeling the stubble of a forgotten morning shave.

 

“I’ll sort that when we get upstairs,” Mycroft gasped against his lips but Lestrade shook his head,

 

“No you won’t, I like you unkempt,”

 

Mycroft laughed and put his hand on Lestrade’s chest to push him away slightly, “Remember what I said about my room?”  Lestrade nodded, “Well I consider that it may be practical for us to share it for a while.”  Mycroft winked and Lestrade felt a rush of fire over his skin.  “We’d better hurry though we only one hour fifty five minutes left.”

 

 

 

 

 

Lestrade excused himself to use the bathroom when they made it to Mycroft’s room and, having used the loo and washed his face, he looked himself in the mirror.  None of this was new, his marriage to his wife had been only a short interlude of heterosexual monogamy in a lifetime of enjoying the company of anyone he fancied without thought for gender, but one important thing was different and that was that this really mattered.  Mycroft mattered.

 

For ten years he’d always been there, on the edge of his thoughts.  Hoping that they’d run into each other and hating that it only seemed to happen when Sherlock was in trouble.  Looking for excuses to text or call, never really expecting a response but always getting one.  Attending Christmas parties and weddings and other social gatherings of the little band of misfits and hoping he’d be there while simultaneously worrying about him being home alone.

 

Everything from the last week could be undone, could be moved on from, and things could go back to normal, blaming it all on Eurus and Sherrinford, but what was about to happen now, there was no going back from this, not that back was somewhere he wanted to go, but this was all or nothing now and he really wanted to get this right.

 

Lestrade considered himself in the mirror, it had been a long week, of more sleep and better food than he’d expected but, as he considered the lack of black circles under his eyes and the relaxation of the frown lines around his eyes he couldn’t help thinking that the break from work, and spending time with Mycroft had actually had a positive effect on him which felt all kinds of odd given the emotional and physical distress the very same events had caused Mycroft. 

 

Having taken another second to check his teeth and wash his face again Lestrade took a deep breath and walked back into the bedroom almost tripping over his own feet, and having to put out a hand to catch himself on the back of the sofa, as he saw Mycroft sat in his armchair, out of his suit but dressed in a pair of purple button up pyjamas that covered almost every inch of his body.

 

“Are you ok?” Mycroft jumped from his chair and moved to catch him.

 

“Yeah, just being an idiot, don’t mind me.”  Lestrade smiled but it wasn’t very convincing.

 

Taking his hand Mycroft led him to the bed, climbed up on it and crossed his legs, tapping the bed in front of him to encourage Lestrade to join him.  “Would I be correct it deducing that my attire was a surprise?”  Lestrade nodded just slightly,

 

“A bit yeah, I’ve never had someone get changed into their pyjamas before, unless I’ve miss read this?”

 

Mycroft took hold of Lestrade’s hand and lifted it to his mouth kissing his way gently across his knuckles while looking him in the eye with the same look he’d given in the kitchen.  “You have in no way misread my suggestion,” he moved on to kissing the back of his hand, slowly moving up towards the cuff of his shirt, “I have every intention of removing your clothes, slowly and carefully, and exploring every inch of your body.  I intend to discover and catalogue every spot that makes you squirm and every touch that makes you giggle.”

 

Mycroft flicked the button on Lestrade’s shirt cuff open and pressed his lips to the pulse on his wrist, “I intend to raise your heart rate until I can feel it thrumming through every inch of your body and I intend to discover the taste and feel of every part of you.”

 

Lestrade felt his breath hitch in his throat and his heart rate leap at the kiss to his wrist and when fingers went to his shirt buttons he wanted to reach for Mycroft’s and reciprocate but as Mycroft caught his eye the reason for the pyjamas seemed to become clear and he smiled and nodded slightly at him and, having kissed him gently on the cheek, he laid himself out full length on the bed, arms down by his sides and waggled his eyebrows suggestively at him.

 

Kneeling up next to him on the bed Mycroft stopped for a second and Lestrade saw a flash of worry cross his face quickly and then drift away before it was followed by an open look of desire as he lifted one leg over him, sat himself astride his hips and returned to undoing his shirt buttons.

 

Mycroft leant down to kiss his neck, nipping the soft spot under his chin as he undid the rest of his shirt buttons and when he moved to place kisses down his chest, tracing towards his right nipple Lestrade felt the effects of his actions in his chest but also in his groin and he couldn’t help the sudden feeling of panic as he realised that, given where Mycroft was sat, he had no way of hiding that.  

 

Mycroft’s eyes were trained on his chest and his hips were rocking slightly against him as he explored the man beneath him but, when he lifted his head to lean in and kiss him he came to a stuttering halt as he caught the panicked look in Lestrade’s eye.  As their eyes met Mycroft stood up on the bed and stepped over Lestrade before jumping onto the floor and crossing the room to sit in his armchair as Lestrade pushed himself up to a sitting position and watched in horror. “I’m sorry Myc, I’m really sorry.”

 

“But you are sorry for the wrong thing Gregory,” Mycroft closed his eyes and rubbed hard at his forehead with the heels of his hands before moving on to his temples and then around to the back of his head, digging his fingertips into his scalp.

 

“I’m sorry I scared you, I couldn’t help it, it just happened.”

 

“You are saying sorry for the wrong thing Gregory!” 

 

Mycroft dropped his hands to the arms of the chair, stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing his ankles as if he was sat at his desk addressing an inconsequential junior official, and the protective mask that he never wore in front of Lestrade anymore slipped into place over his face as he drew a deep breath and fixed Lestrade with a glare. 

 

“Your body’s natural, loving, reactions to me and what I was doing was exactly what I wanted to feel.  I have no reference for what is normal; I cannot trust that my body reacts as it should.  All I wanted was to be with you, to explore you, to learn from you, to memorise you and hopefully to reassure myself that I am not completely broken before I let myself do the things that I have often thought of doing with you even when you were just a kindly, handsome man who would never look at me twice.  Your body’s natural reactions are not what you should be apologising for.”

 

“I …erm… I... Myc … I… Fuck!”  Lestrade shook his head to try and clear his thoughts, “I don’t know what you want me to say Myc, what am I supposed to be saying sorry for if it’s not the reactions of my fucking cock?”

 

Mycroft couldn’t help laughing at the way ‘fucking cock’ spat from Lestrade’s mouth and Lestrade was glad to feel the easing of the tension in the room and the slipping of the mask protecting his friend from this conversation.

 

“What you should be saying sorry for is for your pity of me, for treating me like some victim who needs your care having spent a week leading me to believe that you thought me to be more than that.”

 

“Do you know what Mycroft?”  Lestrade was angry, really angry in a way he’d not felt in a very long time “You can fuck off with that, don’t you accuse me of pitying you because I don’t want to fuck this up.”

 

Lestrade jumped off the bed, fastening his shirt as he stalked towards Mycroft, “Don’t accuse me of treating you like a victim because I care enough about you to want you to be happy.  Do you know how many times this week I’ve kept my hands to myself when I wanted to touch you, hug you, care for you or even, once or twice, wanted to rip your clothes off and taste every inch of you?  Do you think it’s easy on this side of this fucking mess? Do you think that my imagination hasn’t got a million and one ideas as to what that fucker did to you, but have I ever asked? Have I ever made you talk about it? Have I ever asked you to tell me which of the awful thoughts in my head I can discard and stop worrying about? Have I fuck!  So here I am trying not to get things wrong, trying to show you that you are the most gorgeous, wonderful, amazing man I have ever had the fortune to spend time with, trying to encourage you to trust yourself and to trust me and to believe in the love that is all around you and you sit there and tell me that I should apologise to you for a momentary fear that I might have fucked up.”

 

Lestrade took a breath and stepped back from where he was crowding Mycroft into his chair.

 

“If you really think I owe you an apology for that you can fuck off because I’m going home and I will not be coming back!”

 

Without looking at Mycroft Lestrade stalked to the door, turning the handle to leave and wrenching it open before a shaking hand came to rest on his shoulder,

 

“Please don’t go, please,” Mycroft’s fingers dug deep into his shoulder and he rested his head down against the nape of his neck, “Please stay, please.”

 

Lestrade turned around, pushing the door closed and leaning back against it looking Mycroft in the eye for a moment before pulling him close against him and kissing him with passion and fervour that he had never allowed himself to give into with him before.  With one hand running up Mycroft’s back, holding them close at the waist and the other grabbing into his hair he took control of the kiss, turning them so that Mycroft was pressed against the door and moving his hips against him, rubbing his hardening cock against his stomach and feeling Mycroft’s come to life against his thigh.

 

Mycroft relaxed against him, returning the kiss with passion, and bringing his hands up, one to grab tightly at Lestrade’s hair and the other seeking out the bare skin of his back under his shirt, pulling him even closer.  Lestrade tried not to think too much as he circled his hips slowly against Mycroft’s as they kissed, enjoying the sounds Mycroft was making, the quickening of his heart rate and the very definite pressure of his cock against his thigh.

 

“This,” Lestrade broke the kiss to move his mouth to Mycroft’s ear as he grabbed his right wrist and dragged it between their stomachs, placing his hand over his own cock, “Is a perfectly normal reaction, to kissing the person you love and being kissed by them” having watched his words register he pulled their hands out from between them and lifted Mycroft’s fingers to the pulse point on his throat, watching as Mycroft eyes widened as he counted the beats and then moved them to his neck and watched him again.  “An increased heart rate, hot skin, shallow breathing, dilated pupils, blood flowing south, butterflies in the stomach, and the overwhelming need to touch, taste and hold are all perfectly normal reactions to kissing and touching the man you love.”

 

Lestrade kissed Mycroft gently on the lips and then let him go taking a step away, his eyes tracing over him from dilated pupils to sweat gleaming skin and then the red flush that made Mycroft look even sexier than he’d anticipated it would and he drank it in for a long moment before he schooled his face and looked Mycroft right in the eye.  “Not wanting to hurt or scare the person you’re about to fuck is an equally natural reaction to falling into bed for the first time or the four hundredth.  If you think I should apologise for not wanting to overstep your consent when we’ve never done this before then this stops right here right now and it will never ever start again.  I will not apologise for being me or for caring about you.”

 

Mycroft visibly shuddered at that idea so Lestrade continued,

 

“If, however you now have a clearer idea of what consent actually means in this relationship and how that is actually going to play out between us now and in the future then I will more than happily wrap you in my arms and kiss you all the ways you want me to, I will crawl onto that bed with you and have you touch and taste every inch of me that you want to and I will give my cock permission to react any way it fucking pleases.”

 

Lestrade raised his eyebrows at Mycroft, “Your call Myc, but make it quick we’ve wasted twenty minutes already.”

 

Lestrade’s heart beat eight times before Mycroft pushed himself up from where he was leaning against the door and stepped towards him, eyes fixed and dark as he licked slowly across his bottom lip and smiled his wickedest smile.  He walked Lestrade back towards the bed, encouraging him on to it and climbed confidently over him to sit back astride his hips as he ripped the front of his shirt apart, caring not for the buttons Lestrade had refastened earlier “time to show me what you ‘fucking cock’ can do then gorgeous!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Leaning, comfortable and exhausted, against Mycroft’s naked chest, running his fingers across the relaxed muscles of his thigh as confident fingers playing lazily up and down his side Lestrade glanced at the clock noticing that they only had twenty minutes until they were due with Frazer and he smiled to himself as he tipped his head back and encouraged Mycroft into a long, relaxed, lazy kiss.

 

There was no way back now, he knew that, but luckily neither he nor Mycroft seemed to want one.


	23. Chapter 23

Mycroft hadn’t bothered with his waistcoat, jacket or tie when he’d got dressed for lunch with Frazer so Lestrade decided to follow his casual lead best he could with what little he had clean enough to wear.  He put on his one clean shirt, rolling the sleeves up to the elbow and leaving the top couple of buttons undone but he couldn’t escape his formal suit trousers as he had absolutely nothing else clean. 

 

“Will you show me how to use your washer when we’ve had lunch with the little guy?”  Lestrade walked into the kitchen, finding Mycroft chopping peppers and sharing them between the three, almost filled, boxes in front of him. “I’ve got nothing but this clean!”

 

“A detective who can find my room from one short statement but who hasn’t noticed the absence of a washing machine from my kitchen, I applaud your priorities Gregory.”

 

Lestrade grinned at the praise.  “No washer? How does that work?”

 

Mycroft turned to lean on the counter looking at him, “until now it has worked very well, however I concede that it may not stand up to the input of Frazer and that you may be uncomfortable with having Mrs Jarvis deal with your clothes so we will purchase you a washing machine as soon as we are able to.  For now I would suggest that you purchase more clothes, or collect some from your flat, when you go to collect Sherlock later.”

 

“You send all your washing out? Really?” Lestrade was surprised; it might even have gone as far as shocked, at the idea of not even washing your own underwear, although someone to do the ironing sounded rather nice.

 

“Yes I do, and I will not stop using Mrs Jarvis’ services, she is exceptional at her work and our arrangement allows her to work from home and to fit her work around caring for her daughter.  Despite efforts government allowances remain unequal to the task of supporting lifelong care requirements.  I will not withdraw her employment simply because you find my lack of a washing machine to be strange.”  Mycroft was smiling, it wasn’t a forced smile or a playful one or any of the others that Lestrade has seen him employ over the years, this was just a relaxed and happy smile on the face of someone who was confident and content in his decision.

 

Lestrade crossed the kitchen and wrapped his arms around him, “You are amazing, you know that?”  Mycroft blushed slightly, “Iceman on the outside, soft, cuddly and caring on the inside.”

 

“Don’t go telling anyone will you?”  Mycroft quirked his eyebrows, “I’ve worked hard on my reputation.”

 

“I won’t say a word.”  Lestrade leaned in and kissed him quickly before he turned away, to pick up the carrier bag containing all the things they needed to change Frazer’s nappy, “You get those lunches finished quick while I ditch this bloody towel somewhere, I want to go share dinner with my two favourite boys”

 

Mycroft grabbed three packets of crackers from the top shelf of the cupboard and put lids on the three boxes of salad he’d made, stacking them up, before he opened the fridge and retrieved three bottles of water from the door and shouted after Lestrade. “Ready when you are gorgeous.”

 

 

 

 

“Hello Frazer, how you doing?”  Lestrade strolled through the door behind the glass, finding Frazer trying to pull himself to his feet using the chair, and he smiled at him as he spoke, watching carefully for any sign of distress but Frazer simply looked at him with curiosity on his face.

 

“We’ve come to change your nappy and share lunch with you Frazer, is that ok?”  Mycroft’s voice shook slightly more than Lestrade’s had as he spoke but it drew Frazer’s attention and he dropped to his knees crawling a few steps towards them.

 

Mycroft put Frazer’s lunch on the yellow triangle painted on the floor, while Lestrade laid out the blanket on the floor, and then he took two steps towards Lestrade and put their lunches down, side by side.

 

“Nappy time Frazer,” Mycroft grinned as he said it, no shake at all in his voice, and Lestrade felt his heart explode in his chest as Frazer returned the grin and scurried to the blanket, lying himself down and reaching his arm out towards Lestrade, clearly expecting his towel. 

 

“Not today kidda.”  Lestrade smiled as, instead of passing Frazer the usual towel, he reached out, watching carefully for any negative reaction, and gently held his hand.  Frazer’s eyes went wide at the sensation of someone’s hand around his and Lestrade almost moved away before Mycroft knelt down right next to him, leaning into his side in support and gently tapping the end of Frazer’s nose causing him to wrinkle it up and smile shyly.

 

“We want to see your beautiful smile, not hide it away.” 

 

Terrified was the only word Lestrade could come up with for the look in Frazer’s eyes and he felt tears prickle at his eyes as his heart broke a little, Mycroft, however, seemed to be taking it all far more in his stride.  “I know it’s scary sweetheart” His voice was gentle and calming and Frazer was watching him and clearly listening closely.  “Daddy promises not to hurt you though.” 

 

Lestrade’s heart jumped into his throat as the word daddy left Mycroft’s mouth so easily and the prickling tears began to roll gently down his cheek.

 

“You hold tight to Gregory’s hand, he’s good at helping people through scary things, and I’ll get you cleaned up and changed for lunch okay?” 

 

Lestrade moved himself to Frazer’s side, making space for Mycroft to move into position by Frazer’s legs.  “Are you ready Frazer?  Time to take this wet nappy off you and make you more comfortable shall we?” 

 

Lestrade held Frazer’s hand, rubbing his thumb gently across the back of the surprisingly tiny hand that he held in his as he listened to Mycroft speak slowly and gently, explaining exactly what he was doing as he undid the Velcro tabs and pulled the front of the nappy down. “We’ll clean you up quickly ok; let me know if this is cold.”  Frazer wriggled at the coldness of the wipe against his skin but as he listened to Mycroft and watched what he was doing Lestrade saw the beginning of a smile wander into his eyes and by the time Mycroft taped the new nappy back on Frazer was grinning at him and, as Mycroft winked at him and told him what a clever boy he was having his nappy changed he giggled and squeezed Lestrade’s hand as he kicked his legs in excitement.

 

Lestrade grinned at him and snaked his free arm around Mycroft’s waist, pulling him close against his side.  “That wasn’t scary really was it Frazer?”  Frazer giggled and tried to say his name when he heard it.  “Daddy did an amazing job, I think we might put him on permanent nappy duty all the time what do you think?”

 

Frazer grinned and Mycroft dug Lestrade in the ribs with his fingers making him squirm, laugh and, accidentally, leave go of Frazer’s hand something he instantly regretted when his gorgeous smile and wide eyes crumpled into tears and sobs that ran through his whole body.

 

Lestrade saw Mycroft’s quickly aborted first instinct, which had clearly been to scoop Frazer up off the floor and cuddle him, but felt his chest swell when instead Mycroft grasped Frazer’s other hand and spoke quietly to him “Gregory’s a naughty boy isn’t he Frazer,” Frazer had started to quiet at the touch of Mycroft’s hand on his but at the sound of his name all tears dried up and he stared into his daddy’s eyes listening to him as if he was the most important person in the world. “Letting go of your hand just because he was being tickled.”

 

Mycroft tossed a wink in Lestrade’s direction and Frazer turned his head to look at him and reached his hand out to him. 

 

“Daddy’s right,” Lestrade took the offered hand, again shocked by the size if it and the strength of its grip around his finger, obviously not wanting to be dropped again, “I bet he wouldn’t let go if I” and before he finished the sentence he reached over Frazer and tickled at the spot under Mycroft’s arm that always made him laugh.

 

As he laughed and tried to bat Lestrade’s hand away Mycroft kept a firm grip on Frazer’s hand causing him to shriek with laughter and pull his hands, still held firmly by the two of them, together in a clapping action.  Lestrade had seen Rosie do much the same thing one day when John had built her a tower, and then ‘accidentally’ knocked it over for the seventeenth time in ten minutes, and he’d wondered quite why John had found it so adorable, and why he instantly set about building another tower but at this moment he understood completely because every fibre of his being wanted to do anything and everything he could to make Frazer repeat the laughing and the clapping all day every day.

 

Lestrade stopped tickling Mycroft and grinned at Frazer as he gave him a little tickle under the chin before he nodded towards the yellow triangle on the floor and gently released his hand from his grip,  “Time for lunch little one,”

 

Frazer laid still for a second, looking between the men as Mycroft let go of his other hand but when Mycroft mirrored Lestrade’s gesture he clambered to his knees and crawled away, watching them both over his shoulder as Mycroft packed things back into the nappy bag and then shuffled towards the other two settings of lunch.

 

They stayed a few feet away, and sat almost facing each other rather than staring at their boy, as they opened their lunch boxes, chatting about nothing in particular and tucked into their lunch.  Out of the corner of his eye Lestrade could see Frazer watching them, the look was hard to read, somewhere between curious and concerned with a little bit of wonder mixed in but he wasn’t eating and that had Lestrade worried.

 

“Is it tasty Frazer?” 

 

He didn’t move, probably not understanding what Lestrade was saying, noise, words and conversation were a mystery to him after all,

 

“Mine’s nice, daddy did a good job of making it.”  Lestrade didn’t miss the blush that ran over Mycroft’s face at the compliment and he smiled at him and winked.  “Are you going to try some or would you like to try mine?”  He lifted a stick of cucumber from his box and reached his hand out towards Frazer.

 

Mycroft gasped and then seemed to stop breathing altogether as Lestrade held his gaze and they both tried not to look directly at Frazer, hoping not to scare him, while completely unsure as to what was going to happen next.

 

Frazer didn’t move, he just sat stock still and stared at the offered food until Lestrade decided he had to try something else to encourage him to eat, not that he was sure how Mycroft was going to react.  Keeping one hand out stretched to Frazer he reached in to the box with the other, lifting out another of the pieces of cucumber “daddy’s going to share with me,” he reached across to Mycroft and was more than slightly surprised when he opened his mouth without question and allowed Lestrade to feed him the cucumber “it’s nice to share isn’t it daddy.”

 

Mycroft chewed the cucumber rather over dramatically and flashed a smile at Frazer, “very tasty, thank you Gregory.” And then he returned the gesture offering a price of tomato to Lestrade and smiling again at Frazer as he accepted it.

 

Just as he was about to thank Mycroft for sharing his food Lestrade stopped talking because he felt tiny fingers on his wrist as his hand was lifted to Frazer’s mouth and he chewed the end off the cucumber leaving slobbery cucumber juice all over Lestrade’s hand before scurrying away back to his marker on the floor.

 

Every nerve in his body wanted him to wipe the goo from his hand as quickly as possible but he did his best to resist because in reality what had just happened was amazing and a little bit of baby slobber was a very small price to pay.  “Did you enjoy that Frazer?”  Frazer didn’t respond and he still wasn’t eating his lunch. 

 

Mycroft pulled a cracker from his packet and took a bite before offering the other part in Frazer’s direction, “would you like to share daddy’s lunch as well?”  Frazer looked interested in the offered food but also seemed far too nervous to move to take it, “should I bring it to you? Would that be ok?”  Mycroft shuffled closer to Frazer and Lestrade did the same, pushing both their lunches in front of him, and then Mycroft offered the cracker to Frazer again.  This time he was close enough for Frazer just to lean forward and bite the end of the offered food while keeping a close eye on Mycroft who looked every ounce the perfect father that this little boy needed and Lestrade wanted to pull both boys into his arms and tell them just how much he loved them.

 

“Pepper or carrot next?” Lestrade picked up one of each out of his box, waving them between his boys, “does daddy get first choice or Frazer?” Lestrade grinned and winked at Frazer who suddenly smiled at him and reached for the carrot, grabbing it and transferring it quickly from Lestrade’s hand to his mouth.  “Great choice kidda, daddy can have the pepper,”

 

Mycroft took the pepper with a smile and ate it just as quickly as Frazer had as he moved even closer to Frazer, turning himself until he was sat next to him rather than Lestrade, and he leant down to Frazer’s ear giving Lestrade a look that had him very concerned.

 

Sat there, suddenly the subject of some Holmes boy plot, he understood how Mycroft was so successful at his work.  This was clearly only a fun and loving plot but the look gave him shivers of fear anyway.

 

“What’s Gregory going to have to eat Frazer?”  Mycroft reached into his lunchbox and picked up some pepper “what about this? Should I give it to Gregory or do you want it?”  He offered it towards Lestrade and then to Frazer and they all laughed as Frazer grasped it from his hand and stuck it in his mouth and chewed enthusiastically.

 

The game continued for ten minutes, Lestrade feeding Frazer and Mycroft and Mycroft feeding Frazer and Lestrade, until both Mycroft and Lestrade’s lunch boxes were empty and Frazer had eaten far more than either of the adults, and seemed to have lost interest in eating, even though his box remained full.  “What are we going to do with your lunch Frazer?”  Lestrade lifted the still full box from behind Frazer, where he’d left it when he’d moved to take Lestrade’s first offering, and put it down in front of him.

 

For a second they sat in silence while Frazer looked at his box and then up at the two of them and then back to his box.  It was clear that a lot of thought was being given to something, not that Lestrade was sure what, but they were both happy to wait for him to decide not that happy was the word for the look not quite on Mycroft’s face when Frazer finally made a decision.  Having reached both hands into his lunch box Frazer grabbed as much of the salad as he could in his two fists and offered one fist full to Lestrade and the other to Mycroft.

 

Neither of them could say no to something so cute even if the idea of eating food that had been scrunched in baby drool covered hands clearly knocked Mycroft a little sick.  As he ate the offered food Lestrade studied Mycroft’s face, noticing the new mask that sat there now, the mask of fatherhood.  This one was full of the care and love that had for so long been hidden in the tiny space behind the work mask that only Lestrade ever saw and it forced the disgust, and distaste, and probably many other things into the hidden space protecting Frazer from ever seeing them.

 

“Thank you for that Frazer,” Lestrade laughed and grinned as he spoke, “very tasty, thanks for sharing.”

 

Mycroft reached out to hold Frazer’s hand with his right hand while pulling the lunch box away from him with his left as Lestrade grabbed the nappy bag and found some baby wipes.  “Time to clean you up young man, then you can have a rest for a bit.”  Mycroft wiped at the hands as if he’d been cleaning wriggling children all his life and Lestrade wondered just how many times he’d been left to look after tiny Sherlock before life had gone to shit for them all.  “Gregory won’t be here when I come back, he’s going to pick up uncle Sherlock, so you’ll have to make do with just me but I’m sure we’ll be ok.”

 

Lestrade had been worried about leaving Mycroft alone with Frazer and disappearing to deal with Sherlock, it wasn’t that he didn’t think Mycroft could manage, far from it, his concern had been that he thought Mycroft might feel that he couldn’t but as Frazer grinned at him while Mycroft cleaned his hands Lestrade realised what his real concern about leaving them alone was and that was simply that he would miss them.


	24. Chapter 24

_I’ll meet you at the airport at four. GL_

_Why? SH_

_You’ll be through security by then and I’m cheaper than a taxi ;-)_

_I can make my own way home._

_Home? Where is that right now?_

_Are you trying to be annoying? Bored and lonely? My brother not need you anymore?_

Lestrade shook his head and grinned to himself at the snark,

_Don’t be an idiot sweetie; I’ll pick you up at four_. G

 

The response wasn’t quite instant this time but he smiled when it finally arrived,

 

_Thank you, see you at 4. S_

 

 

 

 

Lestrade was stood, leaning on the side of his car, in the airport collection bay when he spotted Sherlock strolling out through the door and he waved, getting a nod of acknowledgement in return.

 

 “Taxi for Holmes.”

 

Sherlock smiled and slid into the passenger seat when Lestrade opened the door but he didn’t speak, he just rested heavily back into the seat, as they travelled in silence for about fifteen minutes.

 

“This isn’t the way to your flat.”

 

“It’s the way to where we’re going.”

 

“Which is?”

 

Lestrade took a breath, “we’re going to your brother’s house.”

 

“Why?”  Sherlock didn’t sound as cross as Lestrade had expected but he did sound confused and maybe a little excited.

 

“Because we’re staying there tonight, in the guest suite.”

 

“We are?”

 

“Yep, We are.”

 

Sherlock didn’t speak again until they arrived at the house but he’d not stopped staring at Lestrade, clearly trying to work out what had happened while his brother and his friend had been away.

 

 

“Where’s Mycroft?”  Sherlock strode through the door after Lestrade “it’d be good to see him if he’s not too busy?”

 

“He’s probably downstairs, stick your stuff upstairs and I’ll go get him.”

 

Sherlock didn’t argue, he just asked for directions to the right room as Lestrade checked the time to be sure he wouldn’t be interrupting Mycroft with Frazer and went in search of him.

 

 

 

 

“Sherlock wants to see you, have you got time?”  Mycroft looked up from the book he was reading and smiled at Lestrade?

 

“Is that allowed?”

 

Lestrade rolled his eyes, “come say hi and then you can go see to Frazer while we make dinner.”

 

Mycroft looked concerned, “it feels wrong having them both here but them not knowing about each other.”

 

“I’ll tell him at some point, I said I would and I will.”

 

“You don’t have to you know?”  Mycroft had looked away and was pretending to study the pages in front of him.

 

Lestrade stepped closer, putting his arm around Mycroft’s shoulder and leant down to kiss the top of his head, “I know I don’t have to but I said I would and I will.”

 

Letting go of his shoulder and grabbing his hand, Lestrade pulled him up from the chair and without saying anything, or letting go of his hand, helped him up the stairs to the kitchen where they found Sherlock sat at the table looking around the room.

 

“You ok Sherlock?” Now that he’d stopped moving the tell-tale signs of his post case collapse were clear to see.  His skin was pale but for dark bags under his eyes and he was clearly looking for food while not actually having the energy to find some.

 

“Mycroft!” Sherlock jumped out of his seat and in two strides he crossed the space between the two of them and wrapped his arms around Mycroft’s neck.

 

Lestrade’s eyes watered with pain as Mycroft squeezed his hand, hard, at the contact from his brother but he did his best not to react, Mycroft was doing well not to have pushed Sherlock away and screamed at him so a broken finger or two were well worth that.

 

Mycroft didn’t return the embrace, in fact he stayed stock still, and Sherlock made an annoyed noise so Lestrade wrapped his free arm around Sherlock’s back, before he could stomp away, and pulled them both close for a second before he pushed them apart.  “Back to work Mycroft, Sherlock and I have things to do now, we’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

 

Sherlock looked rather impressed as Mycroft said goodbye and walked away back down the corridor.  “Why is he allowing this? People don’t tell him what to do, certainly not in his own house.”

 

“I’m not people!”  Lestrade winked and Sherlock laughed, his eyes lighting up when Lestrade grinned at him.  “Anyway, sit down and entertain me with your case while I make the dinner.”

 

 

Sherlock sat down at the table while Lestrade pulled half the contents of the fridge out onto the counter and lifted down one of Mycroft’s heavy granite chopping blocks, two extremely sharp knives and a large cast iron casserole dish.

 

Lestrade tipped a large bag of cubed steak into the dish and switched on the heat before grabbing a handful of pea-pod peas from the bag and tossing them on the table in front of Sherlock, “So?”

 

It was a simple question but Sherlock knew exactly what it meant and, having popped the first pea-pod and emptied the contents into his mouth, he started talking about the wife of the missing man and how she’d been stupid enough to believe that she could confuse him simply by the distance.

 

Lestrade chopped two onions and a couple of leeks and dropped them into the dish with the meat that was slowly browning while listening to him speak and keeping an eye on the disappearing peas.  When Mycroft had been placing the order for ingredients with his staff earlier Lestrade had had to be very clear about exactly what he wanted because pea-pod peas were, to Mycroft’s mind, a complete waste of useful time.  He’d suggested ready podded peas, as it would be quicker, but Lestrade had been clear, just as he had about the baby carrots and turnips not being pre-cut, the cauliflower and broccoli coming on heads rather than as separate florets and the potatoes needing scraping before use, because speed was not the point right now. Right now the whole idea was to take the time to listen to Sherlock tell his story and to get four or more portions of fresh fruit and vegetables inside him.

 

Once the peas in front of him were eaten Lestrade threw the rest of the bag at Sherlock and slid a bowl across the table, “pod and talk?”  Sherlock nodded and pulled the bowl towards him emptying peas from their pods into it as he continued his story.

 

Lestrade opened the bag of baby carrots and preceded to chop all but three of them into small cubes, adding them to the pan before he cut the tops from those left and turned around dropping two on the table in front of Sherlock and grinning at him as he put the other one straight into his mouth, stopping him talking for a whole ten seconds. Moving to the sink he ran a bowl of water to scrape the potatoes as Sherlock went back to explaining why he’d concluded that the man was not only alive but in staying in a rather luxurious retreat in Sweden.

 

Steak, leeks, onion, carrots, turnip and potatoes already in the dish and Sherlock still valiantly podding peas Lestrade dropped a handful of baby corn on the table next to the pea bowl and quickly sliced the rest into half inch pieces and chucked them in the pan.

 

“Are those peas nearly ready?” 

 

Sherlock lifted the bag of pea pods and shook it, “I’ve done about half, will that be enough?” 

 

“Nah keep going, I’ll do the cauli and broccoli and then we’ll put in whatever you’ve got by then.” 

 

“Can I?”  Sherlock started to ask but then stopped, picking up the baby corn and munching on it instead.

 

“Can you what?” Lestrade stirred the pot and then turned to look at Sherlock with a warm smile.

 

“Can I have some of those as well? I’m starving!”

 

“Course you can,” Lestrade grinned and turned back to the counter, chopping some pieces of cauliflower and then placing them on the table. “How long since you ate?”

 

“A while.”

 

“You know that’s not an answer right?”  Lestrade turned to face Sherlock and crossed his arms across his chest raising an eyebrow and waiting for a real answer. 

 

Sherlock tried to avoid the look, clearly he didn’t want to answer, but Lestrade maintained his position and eventually he spoke.

 

“I had dinner with Molly two days ago and a light breakfast with Rosie the following morning but nothing since then.”

 

“You’re mad, you know that right? You can’t go two days without food and expect to function!”

 

“I did and I can Greg, you should know that, it’s been longer before.”

 

“We don’t talk about that day though do we?”  To his credit Sherlock did look a bit regretful about his past behaviour so Lestrade decided to let it slide.  “Chuck me them peas and grab some stock cubes from the cupboard for me.”

 

Sherlock passed the bowl and Lestrade added them to the dish alongside the cauliflower and broccoli, three stock cubes and two litres of water and then he stirred it before putting the lid on to bring it to the boil.

 

“While this goes in the oven you need to go grab a bath, a proper relaxing bath, and put some pyjamas on, you’ll find some in the top drawer of the dresser if you need them and a dressing gown on the back of the door.  I have a job that needs doing before we relax and eat so I’ll do that while you wash then I need to talk to you about something before you tell me everything I’ve missed with John and Rosie and Molly while I’ve been away.”

 

Sherlock nodded and got up from the table, grabbing the rest of the bag of pea pods as he left.


	25. Chapter 25

The dish took a few minutes to come to the boil so Lestrade found his laptop and decided to use the time to check on Frazer.  As he waited for the camera feed to come up on screen he expected to see Frazer sat on his own in his room or maybe crawling around with his pictures or trying to stand up against his chair.  What he really didn’t expect to see was Mycroft led on his back in the middle of the floor, knees bent up, with a smiling, laughing little boy sat on his knees, holding his hands and bouncing up and down as Mycroft grinned back at him.

 

 He was sure that his melting heart was about to dribble out his shirt sleeves but instead it just ran up his face and dribbled out of his eyes. “I bloody love you Mycroft Holmes.” He said to no one and then really hoped Sherlock had been quick away for his bath.

 

The dish lid began to rattle so he transferred it to the oven and pushed the laptop lid shut before he ran down the stairs to join his boys in their play.

 

 

 

 

Sneaking up on Holmes’ was impossible, he knew that, so he didn’t even try he just moved quickly hoping to join the game without scaring them out of it, and he was slightly upset at the look of panic on Mycroft’s face when he spotted him and sat up almost pushing Frazer to the floor.

 

“I’m sorry Gregory, I know we agreed,”

 

Lestrade leaned forward and cut Mycroft’s words off with a kiss earning himself a giggle and a pat on the side from Frazer.  “What the hell are you sorry for you amazing man?”

 

Mycroft blushed and looked away, his hands fiddling at the cuffs of his shirt, “For spending almost every minute you were away playing and” Mycroft looked up at Lestrade with the cheekiest eyes he ever seen on him, “for pretending I’d been sat next door reading a book when I can’t even tell you what the title was of the book I just about got in my hands before you came down here after I’d heard you two arrive home.”

 

“Looks like I’m going to have a keep an eye on you and daddy doesn’t it Frazer?”  Frazer grinned at his name and the way Lestrade winked at him.  “But Playing that makes this cute little man laugh like that is nothing to apologise for.”

 

“But we agreed on slow and I have tried to push too hard before, I shouldn’t,”

 

“Do me a favour Myc and shut up,” Lestrade kissed him again, “look at him, look at that grin and grab a mirror and look at yours.  Nothing in this needs apologising for, you’ve made him happy, that’s what daddy’s are supposed to do.”

 

“Da da da da”

 

Mycroft’s head swung round so hard that Lestrade thought it might actually fly off, “what did you say Frazer.” The words were quiet and nervous and very unsteady for Mycroft,

 

“Da da da”

 

“Did he?” Mycroft looked wide eyed at Lestrade who nodded slowly at him and moved closer to wrap his arm around his waist as they both looked back at Frazer, “Can you say that again sweetheart.”

 

Frazer got to his knees and shuffled himself across the floor, arms reaching out to Mycroft, “da da da da”  and Mycroft reached out and picked him up under the arms, pulling him close and rolling backwards until he was led on his back on the floor, cuddling his little boy close against his chest.  “Never did I ever think I’d hear that from anyone, you beautiful boy.”  Frazer giggled and then said it again and again and again, each time earning him a kiss on the head or cheek or a tickle to his tummy and Lestrade sat a few feet away watching and marvelling at the beauty of it all.

 

“Come here you,” Mycroft reached out a hand in Lestrade’s direction, “We need Gregory over here don’t we Frazer?”

 

“geg  geg”

 

“Yep, geg geg indeed.”

 

As Lestrade moved closer, a little shocked by all he’d missed in the few hours he’d been away, Mycroft grabbed his hand and pulled him down next to him earning them both a giggle as he held him close and released his grip on Frazer allowing him to crawl, knobbly knees and all, over on to Lestrade where he sat up and started bouncing up and down on his stomach as they all laughed more than Lestrade had laughed in a long time and more, he thought, than Mycroft probably ever had.

 

 

They played, led on the floor cuddled together with Frazer climbing all over them for about fifteen minutes before Frazer suddenly sat up, his eyes darkening as he stared over their heads for a second before looking back at them with a smile as he climbed down from Lestrade’s tummy and then crawled away towards his bed.

 

“You ok Frazer?”  Lestrade pushed himself up on his elbows to see where he’d gone as Mycroft tensed against his side and did the same,

 

“Frazer sweetheart?  Are you ok?”

 

There was no response as Frazer reached the pile of pictures next to his bed and he stayed with his back to them for almost a minute as he pulled at the pieces of paper, studying each one carefully before discarding it and looking at another until he picked one up that seemed to meet with his agreement and he visibly relaxed before shuffling himself around on his knees to look back towards the two men he was playing with although he didn’t look straight at them.  

 

Frazer looked from the picture to the space above Mycroft’s head and back again three times while Lestrade did his best to calm Mycroft’s tremble through the little contact they could manage without moving.  “Are you ok son?”  Mycroft finally spoke, his voice giving away every ounce of the nervousness he was feeling inside, and slowly Frazer turned the piece of paper in his hands around to show his daddy while he continued to look over his head and out through the glass.

 

“Shit!” 


	26. Chapter 26

Mycroft stood up in one smooth movement, rolling down his shirt sleeve and fastening the cuffs, before pulling himself together best he could without his usual armour. Lestrade was slower to react, finally making it to his feet just as the last of Mycroft’s shutters fell closed and Frazer began to cry, suddenly unsure about things that had seemed so certain a moment ago. 

When Mycroft didn’t react to the tears, or to be more accurate when the mask that Mycroft now wore didn’t react to the tears Lestrade felt the need to do something and he reached his arms down to Frazer who didn’t wait a second to reach up and allow himself to be lifted from the floor into Lestrade’s arms and sat on his hip cuddled close as Lestrade stepped closer to Mycroft, hoping that he wouldn’t step away, and reached for his hand, threading their fingers together.

“Isn’t Frazer clever daddy? Don’t you think?” Mycroft didn’t lift his eyes from the distant floor but he did nod just slightly, “Why don’t you tell him just how clever he is to recognise his uncle Sherlock, Myc?” Mycroft still didn’t look up or speak and when Frazer reached out to touch him he flinched away, while tightening his grip on Lestrade’s hand.

Sherlock was stood the other side of the glass, sleepy eyes staring almost unfocused at the three of them, as his clearly tired brain tried to process everything he was seeing and hearing and Lestrade wanted to say something to explain, comfort or reassure, or perhaps all three, but then he suddenly turned away, going back out of the door and Lestrade couldn’t help the ‘what the hell happens now’ feeling that hit him hard in the chest as Mycroft hand tightened even further and Frazer looked at him in wide eyed confusion. 

“I’m sorry Myc; I’d have told you if I’d told him, I don’t know how this happened.” Mycroft wasn’t responding but Frazer did at least seem to be finding comfort in his arms and in his sudden elevation from the floor as he waved his arms and batted at Lestrade’s cheek.

“I knew he’d leave, I knew he’d hate me for this.” 

Lestrade let go of his hand and wrapped his arm around Mycroft, pulling him close and trying not to laugh when Frazer reached to grab at his hair and tried to place slobbery kisses on his cheek, “It’s just a shock for him Love, he’ll be back when he’s ready.” 

“Ouch!” Mycroft shouted and rubbed his head as Frazer started bouncing up and down on Lestrade’s hip, while still holding his hair, causing him to pull hard at it.

“Mycroft.” The voice wasn’t Lestrade’s and it surprised them both but also explained Frazer’s excitement, “put these on, then we can talk.”

Sherlock was stood just a few feet away, on their side of the glass, with Mycroft’s jacket and waistcoat over his arm and his tie in his hand and Lestrade wanted to hug him more than he had the day he’d returned from the dead but he resisted, flashing him a wide grin instead as Mycroft took the clothes and quickly dressed himself back into his armour, entirely refusing to look at Frazer who was snuggling closer and closer into Lestrade’s side, his eyes becoming heavy at the comfort.

“Say night night to uncle Sherlock Frazer,” Lestrade lay Frazer down in his arms like a baby and walked a step towards Sherlock, who stared wide eyed at him and then whisper ‘night night’ at the bundle. “And say night night to daddy,” Frazer smiled, his eyes becoming heavier in his head, but Mycroft didn’t move to speak to him despite the glare he was getting from Lestrade. “And I’ll give you a big kiss to keep you safe through sleep ok?” He knelt down and carefully laid him into his bed, pulling the covers up around him and straightening his pictures on the floor next to him. “We’ll be back soon, love you sweetheart.” and he waked away to the door of the cell, catching Sherlock’s arm and pulling him with him while Mycroft walked slowly and nervously behind them.

 

No one said a word as they walked out of Frazer’s room and through the house to the kitchen, Lestrade gestured to either side of the table, cursing the now open laptop sitting on it, and turned on the coffee machine, checking the dinner while it boiled, and then poured three large cups of coffee putting them down on the table, before taking the seat at the head of the table between the two men.

 

Mycroft sat upright in his chair, perfect posture and poise, eyes looking at some point on the table about six inches in front of Sherlock while Sherlock sank down in his chair, curling his feet up onto it and wrapped his dressing gown around his knees seeming to look at exactly the same spot as his brother and Lestrade stretched his legs out under the table, relaxing into his chair for a moment before he spoke.

“You two have a lot to talk about or you have a lot of listening to do while I explain everything but either way the time has come boys.” 

The silence dragged for far too long so he spoke again. “I need to apologise to you both for my screw up, I should never have left the laptop on the table, I’m sorry you found out about Frazer that way Sherlock and I’m sorry that I didn’t do as I’d promised Mycroft, I was going to tell him everything after he’d had his bath.”

“It is not your place to deal with this Inspector.”

Lestrade felt actual, physical, pain at Mycroft’s use of inspector and the only comfort at all was the look of shock on Sherlock’s face. 

“Really Mycroft, I might deserve your anger but that was cruel even for you.”

“It’s ok Sherlock,” Greg reached out to lay his hand on Sherlock’s hoping to stop his defence of him, “You two don’t need to argue about me right now, you need to talk about why you think you deserve his anger and why he thinks he deserves yours. I’ll take everyone’s right now if it will let you two talk.” Sherlock nodded and Lestrade withdrew his hand, leaning back into his seat. 

 

Before that moment the presence of a clock in the kitchen had gone unnoticed but as the silence stretched the ticking became louder and louder.

“I,” Lestrade gave up on his boys and decided he had to take control of this situation. “Was supposed to tell you about Frazer Sherlock, you weren’t supposed to find out from my laptop, I’m sorry that happened.”

“I shouldn’t have looked,” Sherlock looked apologetically at Lestrade, “you said you needed to talk to me after my bath and I couldn’t rest properly waiting for it. I thought, well you don’t need to know what I thought but I was worried and when you weren’t here, didn’t appear when I shouted and your laptop had appeared on the table I couldn’t resist, I’m a wanker like that and it’s no wonder everybody gets so fucking angry at me.”

“No one’s angry at you Sherlock.”

Sherlock cast a glance towards Mycroft who was sitting, unmoved in his chair and then looked back at Lestrade, “He’ll roll around the floor, arm wrapped around you, with a kid clambering all over him and he’ll hold your hand and take your instructions in his own home but he froze like a statue and nearly broke your fingers when I tried to hug him, how can you say he’s not angry at me?”

“Not everything is about you Sherlock!” Mycroft spat the words with his usual condescending venom and when Lestrade reached for his hand, hoping to calm him he shot him a look Lestrade hadn’t seen in a good few years and he stopped the movement placing his hand palm up on the table next to him instead, there if he wanted it but demanding nothing.

“Shall I tell him or will you?”

Mycroft took a breath, and finally lifted his eyes from the table, looking Sherlock in the eye. “Thank you for lending me the inspector Sherlock, thank you for knowing what I needed when I did not.”

Sherlock dropped his feet to the floor and lent forward on the table, “He’s been mad about you for years, I’ve been considering another overdose for months just to give you both the push but then this came along.”

Lestrade laughed out loud and Mycroft’s eyes reacted to the attempted humour even though the mask remained firmly in place.

“There are still gaps, things I don’t remember, if I did something that hurt you I’m sorry, I know I’ve been nothing but trouble to you.”

“I am not angry at you Sherlock,” Mycroft’s voice began to shake as his mask began to fail him; “I’m scared.” Once he’d said the word once it kept running from his mouth but the shake disappeared from his voice, “I am scared that you blame me for everything. I am scared that you hate me for keeping the secrets from you. I am scared that you blame me for Frazer and more scared that you will try and take him from me. I am scared that I will lose you again and this time for good.” 

Mycroft took a breath and then reached to lay his hand over Sherlock’s hand on the table while at the same instant grabbing tight hold of Lestrade’s.

“I don’t know how to say this in any other way than this Sherlock so I’m sorry if it shocks you.” 

Sherlock turned his hand over and Lestrade saw Mycroft physically relax as Sherlock actively held his hand. “You can tell me anything brother.”

The clock ticked twice as Mycroft glanced between the two hands, holding his and then he looked up and met Sherlock’s eyes. “You know the need for armour, it is not armour against the here and now and certainly not against you, it is armour against the past, and against my own memories just as your brain has protected you from yours since we were both far too young to be having to deal with these things.” Sherlock nodded in understanding but did not interrupt. “I don’t like being touched Sherlock, I was touched against my will for many years by our uncle. Physical contact scares me, unexpected physical contact terrifies me. I expected you to be angry with me not to want to hug me, I am sorry that I reacted the way I did.”

Sherlock suddenly jumped up from his chair and Mycroft grasped harder at Lestrade’s hand.

“Uncle Rudi? Uncle fucking Rudi?” Mycroft nodded a yes, “For how long? How many years?”

“Almost Ten” 

“Ten?! Fuck! How did no one know? Why did no one stop him? Why did no one protect you My?” Sherlock swung around to look at him, “I’d have protected you, why didn’t I notice? Why, why, why?” He banged his hands against the sides of his head at the why, why, why and then pulled at his curls grounding himself.

“You were a baby Sherlock, not much older than Frazer when it started and I worked hard at hiding it, it’s how the whole thing works. We were just kids; none of this should have been on us.”

Lestrade had said those words a hundred times in the last week, knowing that Mycroft didn’t quite believe him but as Mycroft said them himself it was clear that he finally understood and that he hoped Sherlock would as well.

 

Sherlock flittered up and down across the kitchen for a few moments, clearly trying to process everything and to calm himself down and Mycroft shuffled his chair closer to Lestrade’s, leaning into him when he reached his arm around the best he could and held him tight.

After what felt like forever Sherlock suddenly came back to himself, entirely calm and he looked at his brother, cuddled close with Lestrade and then met Lestrade’s eyes. All the questions were there, could he? Should he? Would it be ok? And Lestrade smiled at him over Mycroft’s head and nodded without moving at all, encouraging Sherlock to take the plunge.

“Now you know I’m not mad at you My, and now that I’ve asked, could I?” Sherlock turned to Mycroft, gesturing with his arms towards him, “Would you mind if I?”

The question was clear even is Sherlock couldn’t voice all the words and Mycroft relaxed his grip slightly on Lestrade’s hand as he turned to look up at him, clearly looking for reassurance, and the fond look Lestrade caught in Sherlock’s eye at the connection between his brother and his friend was the clearest indication yet that many things had changed for the better since Eurus’ return.

Kissing his forehead gently, Lestrade released his grip of his shoulder and nodded and winked at him and Mycroft smiled back at him.

“One second,” Mycroft squeezed Lestrade’s hand as he pushed his chair back and then he stood up moving his hands to the buttons of his jacket and slowly undoing them with shaking fingers. As he slipped the jacket from his shoulders he set about the buttons of his waistcoat with far more ease, dropping it next to the jacket and finally he removed his tie and undid his collar before he crossed the space to Sherlock and allowed himself to be folded up into his arms and held close by his little brother for the very first time in his life.


	27. Chapter 27

The Holmes boys retired to the living room, with a small glass of whiskey each, so that Mycroft could explain properly about Frazer and answer Sherlock’s questions about Eurus while Lestrade checked on the dinner and made dumplings to go in it but Sherlock promised to save all the stories of Molly until Lestrade joined them. 

Lestrade was amazed by how long he could take to actually get the dinner back in the oven but listening to the stilted mumbles become gentle conversation and then move on to something which sounded much more relaxed he really didn’t want to be the cause of rushing this important conversation to its conclusion before they were ready.

Walking into the living room, his own whiskey in hand, Lestrade found the boys sat side by side on the small sofa, pressed together shoulder to foot, watching a computer screen and laughing like children. Lestrade had long suspected that Katie’s insistence on curling up on his knee whenever they sat together wasn’t really considered normal sibling behaviour, and not just because of Christopher’s reaction to it, but Mycroft sat leaning heavily into Sherlock’s side against the sofa arm looked very much like the Holmes family equivalent. “What’ve I missed? Anything interesting?”

“My brother crawling around like a dog with a baby holding his lead,” Sherlock gasped out between laughs.

“That I have to see,” Lestrade moved quickly across the room and behind the sofa where he could lean his head down between them and share the viewing, laughing as he saw images of Mycroft and Frazer crawling around the floor of his cell with Frazer holding tight to Mycroft’s tie. “He’s got his daddy under his thumb already hasn’t he?” He ruffled Mycroft’s hair as he said it earning himself a side eyed glare.

“Geg geg isn’t one for saying no to him either is he?”

“No he isn’t but then geg geg is a lunatic idiot not a suite wearing genius.” Lestrade winked and then leaned in to kiss Mycroft’s cheek.

“Yuck!” Sherlock sprang up from his seat, nearly knocking the computer on to the floor, “I don't need to be this close to that!” 

“Oh, brother dear, you don’t mind your inspector kissing me do you?” Mycroft grinned almost manically and reached for Lestrade’s hand possessively, earning himself a raised eyebrow from both of the other men

“I don’t mind at all, I understand kissing to be rather fun, I just don’t need to be breathing the same air as it!”

“Well then,” Lestrade jumped over the back of the sofa, sitting himself in the space Sherlock had just vacated. “Take a seat in that chair and tell us all about just how fun kissing Molly is before the alarm goes for dinner.”

 

The space Sherlock had left was a tight squeeze for Lestrade but Mycroft didn’t move to make it any easier so Lestrade turned in his seat, lifting his legs across Mycroft’s knee and leaning back against the arm, cradling his Whiskey against his chest and trying not to be caught looking at the adorably relaxed reaction he was getting from Mycroft who rested his glass on Lestrade’s knee and draped his other arm idly over his thighs while Sherlock watched them with a smile.

“So, Sherlock how’s Molly?”

“As beautiful as always,” He smiled shyly at Lestrade, “I just notice now.” 

“You always noticed Sweetie; you just didn’t know you did.” 

Sherlock glared, a full body glare at Lestrade as Mycroft cocked his head and looked inquisitively between them, clearly trying not to laugh at Lestrade’s look of confusion. “Why are you both staring at me? What did I do?”

“I suspect,” Mycroft broke out in a smile as Sherlock shrank back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest and sulking like a toddler, “You just broke a very old promise.”

“Shit!” Lestrade sat forward, quickly moving his feet to the floor and almost crawling across the room until he was knelt in front of Sherlock’s chair, “I’m really sorry Sherlock,”

Had he had less practice at dealing with the Holmes boys Lestrade would have missed the mischief in the flash of eyes above his head, the twitching of Sherlock’s right leg, crossed across the left and the almost silent gasps of someone trying to stifle laugher behind him but this was Lestrade, master Holmes wrangler, and he didn’t miss any of it.

“You bastards!” He jumped to his feet “You pair of bastards, don’t think you’re going to go around teaming up on me now, I can always withdraw my teddy bear services and see how you cope without me!”

Sherlock laughed, his full face coming alive with it and lifted himself to his feet wrapping his arms around Lestrade, walking him back towards the sofa, “Stop blustering Greg and sit down.” And with that he deposited him in Mycroft’s lap, grinning at Mycroft before stepping back and starting talking.

“Molly and I are taking things more slowly than you two clearly are,” 

Lestrade had made no attempt to move from Mycroft’s lap so Mycroft had uncrossed his legs, to make himself more comfortable, and wrapped his left arm around him resting his right arm, and the surprisingly un-split whiskey, back on his knee.

“I have much to apologise for and I have a lot of work to do to earn her trust but I am very happy to report that we are enjoying time together, she is allowing me to spend time in her home, we have enjoyed a few meals together and,” Sherlock looked at Lestrade with something new in his eye, “I did not ignore her calls while I was dealing with the case.”

Lestrade grinned, just as his phone started to beep alerting them to dinner, “Not really taking it slow then!”

Sherlock blushed and looked down at his hands and Mycroft pulled Lestrade close and whispered in his ear “Slowly Gregory, not slow.” and then kissed him under his ear making him squirm as realisation dawned.

“Slowly’s good, especially right now Sherlock. For now you’ve got me.” Lestrade winked and grinned and then almost ran from the room, preventing any argument, not that he missed the exchange between the brothers as he left.

_“I have never.”_

_“I know you haven’t”_

_“What does he mean then?”_

_“That he’ll be with you tonight”_

_“He, what, he can’t, you’re.”_

_“Have you ever tried to argue with Gregory?”_

_“What about you? He’s yours not mine and this house.”_

_“Do NOT continue that sentence Sherlock, DO NOT tell him.”_

_“He doesn’t?”_

_“Shut up! Now! Don’t argue over this, Gregory will be with you tonight and I will deal with Frazer and you will NOT tell him.”_

As he heard them move towards the door Lestrade tried not to worry about what the hell the pair of them were keeping from him and made his way to the kitchen, serving three large bowls of stew and dumplings and placing them on the table alongside three large glasses of water, before they all settled to eat dropping into idle, tired, conversation as Sherlock shovelled food into his mouth quickly until his eyes began to droop and finally he pushed the bowl away and leant forward on his arms, crossed on the table, and began to snore quietly.

Mycroft watching Sherlock relax and fall asleep was mesmerising to Lestrade, so many, often absent, thoughts and feelings ran across his face and it really was a privilege to be trusted enough to see it, coupled with the knowledge that it was, at least in part, due to his love for the pair of them that they’d made it this far he couldn’t help feeling proud of himself and of his wonderful man.

“I suggest that you take this young man to bed and settle him to sleep for the night and I will deal with Frazer, put him to bed and get him up in the morning. I would be grateful if you would join me for breakfast with him and then I would suggest that we properly introduce him to his uncle Sherlock once he has actually slept.”

Lestrade reached out his hand and ruffled the hair on the top of Sherlock’s head, feeling him move slightly into the touch. “I’ll do that if you’re really sure you’re ok with it?”

“I have slept many times in this house all alone, having the three of you here with me, even if scattered around the house, is enough for me right now. Tomorrow night I may feel differently though.” Mycroft winked and leaned across Sherlock to kiss Lestrade, earning himself a mumbled complaint from his brother. “Sorry brother,” Mycroft laughed as he broke the kiss and leaned down and kissed Sherlock gently through his curls before he winked at Lestrade and disappeared towards Frazer’s cell, Frazer’s dinner in hand.

 

“Come on you,” Lestrade had cleared the plates, put the left over dinner away in the oven ready to reheat for lunch, stacked the dish washer and prepared it to go on when Mycroft returned from Frazer’s dinner and now it was time to get Sherlock upstairs and into bed for what was not going to be anywhere near twelve hours but would hopefully be enough for him to be ready for a proper meeting with the little one in the morning. 

“I can’t carry you; you can lean on me though.” Sherlock was making no moves to get up from his seat so Lestrade pulled at his arm, encouraging him to his feet, stooping under his shoulder and wrapping his arm around his waist, and walked them both slowly along the hall towards the stairs.

“That room,” Sherlock stopped moving by one of the doors Lestrade had earlier concluded hadn’t been opened in a while.

“What about that room Sherlock.” Lestrade was trying to drag Sherlock away as he asked but he’d suddenly regained his strength and wouldn’t move. Wriggling from Lestrade’s grip and grabbing the door handle, turning it with a creek he pushed the door open slowly as its hinges argued loudly.

Looking through the door Lestrade could see a big wooden desk in the corner, leather seats either side of it, a thick rug on the floor in front of a big fire place with dark leather sofas on two sides and a large chandelier hanging down from the ceiling, covered in dust and looking like it hadn’t seen light in a good few years. “I don’t get it, can’t you explain in the morning when you’re making more sense?”

“He won’t let me, promised I wouldn’t say, he doesn’t want you to know.” Sherlock stumbled in through the door of the room and dragged Lestrade behind him. He pulled him to the middle of the room, carefully avoiding leaving any footprints on the rug, and then turned him around pointing at the corner behind the door, looking rather shocked himself as the colour drained from his face.

Lestrade heaved and felt his knees go as he collapsed to the floor at the sight of a bed, metal head and foot boards, with all kinds of loops and chains attached, decked out in a very dusty set of sheets, hidden behind the door. Despite the dust a colourful map of the underground was clearly visible on the duvet cover and the staring eyes of a clown, with full makeup and bright red curly wig, grinned out from the pillowcase.

“Is this the bastard’s house? Is this where?”

Sherlock collapsed to the floor next to him, “it’s definitely his house and I believe so yes. He made me promise I wouldn’t tell you. I thought you should know, however it appears that I’m just as bad as our bloody uncle!”

“A minor position in transport!” Lestrade heaved into his hands; sure he was going to be sick right there. “Fucking hell Sherlock, whatever you’ve ever done to your brother it can’t compare to this fucker!”

“I knew he was terrified of clowns,” Sherlock shuffled closer to Lestrade and leaned in to his shoulder, clearly in need of comfort and Lestrade automatically pulled him closer, holding him tight. “I swear I didn’t know why, I promise I didn’t know any of this until he told me earlier. I’ve been searching my mind for clues ever since he told me and I can’t find any, I really didn’t know.”

There were tears in his eyes, some of which were now making their way down his cheeks and the lump in his throats was audible in his voice, “I scared him, in this house. I disabled his security, took his gun and sent a clown to get him, he was terrified. I promise I didn’t know.”

“I believe you Sherlock, you can be a twat but you would never have done that if you’d known. Wasn’t it John’s idea though? Breaking in?” Sherlock nodded. “And he’d spent rather a lot of time with Eurus yes?” Sherlock nodded again. “Look sweetie,” it was an intentional use of the name that had made Sherlock relax and trust him ever since the day he’d found him in that house, because the rest of what he said was probably going to hurt. 

“I think we might need to get John to see someone, he’s done some things and had some ideas in the last few months that we both know don’t fit his character. I suspect he knew about the clowns, maybe not consciously but Eurus knew what Mycroft had suffered I think it might be linked, I think there’s also a link with him kicking the shit out of you, not that we haven’t all considered that at some point.” Lestrade laughed slightly as he said it and then placed a soft kiss on the curly head snuggled under his chin.

“He had every right to do that,”

“No he didn’t!” Lestrade said it with certainty and hugged him tighter, “no one ever has the right to hurt you and I don’t believe John, in his right mind, would think he had. I know you fight sometimes, but that wasn’t a fight that was the same kind of shit as suggesting sending the clown in here don’t you think?”

Sherlock nodded against him and then spoke in barely a whisper, “I still did that to my brother.”

“You did, it can’t be undone but he Loves you and he wants you here which I can only conclude, in my none Holmes idiocy, means he forgives you.”

They sat for another moment before Lestrade became aware of the passing of time in relation to how long he knew they normally spent with Frazer at this time of day. “Let’s get out of here, close the door like it’s never been opened and if he doesn’t mention it I won’t.”

Sherlock looked up and smiled shyly, “should I have told you? Was that ok?”

“I’m glad you told me, doesn’t mean I have to tell anyone that I know though does it? Your brother isn’t a kid; he’s most certainly not a victim who needs taking care of because he can’t decide for himself. Five days ago I’d have said different but once he let the secret go it lost a lot of its power and, as hard as it is to hear or think of how he’s struggled up to now, we have to let him be and let him do and let him make his decisions”

 

 

Lestrade left it to Sherlock to cover their tracks and instead rushed to the bathroom to wash his face and try and settle his stomach, being calm for Sherlock didn’t stop his mind racing with questions he was never going to be able to ask (restraints? chains?) and thoughts that made him want to be sick but he had to get them under control because it was true, they couldn’t ask questions they could only be there to listen when and if Mycroft began to talk.

Climbing into bed, grabbing his laptop so that he could check on Frazer and Mycroft, and pulling the covers back on the other side ready for Sherlock who had made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth, one question kept jumping to the front of his head and it just wouldn’t go away. How the hell could Mycroft live in the house that had been the scene of the very worst parts of his early life? If this was a family pile then did he live here because he couldn’t think of a way to explain not doing or was it worse than that, did he stay here because he felt he deserved the daily reminder? 

For the four hundredth and fifty ninth time in the last week Lestrade silently cursed the very existence of Uncle Rudi but as Sherlock climbed into bed beside him and snuggled close against him, laughing at the pictures of Frazer feeding Mycroft a piece of apple that he had already half chewed that were running on the screen, he renewed his pledge to himself to keep all his Holmes’ safe from anyone who didn’t love them as much as he did.


	28. Chapter 28

_The room was bright and warm, light streaming for the sparkling chandelier and heat crackling from the fire burning brightly in the huge stone fire place. A man, around forty, sat heavy in a dark leather chair, leaning over papers laid out on the desk in front of him, concentrating as he scribbled something down._

_In front of the fire lay a thick soft rug, dark patterns of reds and browns and greens to match the dark wood panels of the walls, and on it knelt a boy who looked little more than ten, playing with a train track and trains, a London bus and two black cabs. He looked happy and relaxed, smiling to himself as he played._

_The bus and the train crashed together, under the boy’s direction, on the floor and he grinned to himself, eyes sparkling brightly, before his face suddenly startled as the man at the desk slammed his pen down on the papers in front of him and snarled at him._

_The boy turned towards the desk, knelt back on his heels, eyes low to the ground as he pulled at the hem of his jumper nervously._

_The warmth and light and all the air left the room as the man continued to glare and snarl and the boy shrank lower, suddenly dropping his hands to his sides as if instructed to stop playing with his clothes, before slowly and shakily the boy crawled closer to the desk, disappearing beneath it as the man’s head rested back against his chair and his hand dropped into his lap, under the desk._

_The man’s eyes fell closed, his mouth dropped slack and sweat began to glisten on his face as his breathing shallowed and quickened and the tension in his right shoulder increased, holding and gripping and moving something under the desk until his whole body shook and he opened his mouth, clearly shouting something unpleasant while his arm remained firm, holding tight._

_The seconds ticked by as a sickening smile nudged onto the man’s face and he brought his hands up to wipe the sweat from his face and run his fingers through his hair before he slapped both hands hard onto the desk, making it shake and barked another order into the room just before the boy reappeared from under the desk and made his way, still on his knees, to the side of the man’s chair._

_The boy didn’t look up at the man, hands down by his sides, fingers gripping hard into the palms of his own hands, and the man reached out one hand and ran his fingers through his hair, petting him like a dog who had just returned from doing its masters bidding before gripping hard at his hair and pulling his head up, while the other hand took a handkerchief from his top pocket and pushed it towards the boy’s face._

_As the man’s hand released his hair the boy dropped to all fours, handkerchief stuffed into his mouth, and crawled away from the desk, ignoring the toys on the floor and instead making his way to the bed in the corner, climbing up on it and assuming an uncomfortable position with his hands gripping tightly to the headboard rail, his head dropped into the smiling face of a clown on the pillow, bum in the air and back to the room, as the man at the desk stood up, unfastening his belt and pulling it free from his trousers before he stalked across the room, eyes burning like fire._

 

“No no, fuck Myc, no!”

“Sshhh, sshhh, Greg, it’s ok, sshhh”

Lestrade felt a firm hand on his chest and another on his arm and he tried to fight against them, trying to get up, trying to save the boy.

“Breathe for me Greg, breathe slowly, it’s just a dream, breathe.”

Lestrade shook his head against the pillow, eyes still closed, and kept fighting the hold “let me up, let me go, I’ve got to, I need to.”

 

 

Sherlock had woken at the first jerk of Lestrade’s hand and he’d watched as his heart began to race and his skin began to sweat as his brow furrowed and his eyes began to move behind their lids and he had absolutely no idea what to do. Lestrade had cared for him through the recovery from the most awful of cases, on one memorable occasion getting a black eye from a flailing, nightmare induced, punch and he’d seen him through withdrawal from one drug or another but never had it been the other way around and Sherlock felt completely out of his depth until he decided that he’d had a bloody good teacher and it was about time he put it into practice.

 

 

“Greg, sweetie, it’s Sherlock, I’m here, you’re safe.” 

“He’s not, get off, I need to.” Finally Lestrade opened his eyes, looking up into Sherlock’s, steadying slightly as he found comfort in the warmth of them.

“It’s just … I was…,”

“No need to explain right now, just come here,”

Lestrade felt himself being pushed and pulled and twisted and turned until he was held close into Sherlock’s side, head resting over his heart , with strong arms wrapped around him.

“Try and match my breathing sweetie,” Sherlock took a deep breath, “concentrate on my heartbeat, breathe in for four and out for four,”

Sherlock was calm, and calming, and Lestrade latched on to his voice, listened to the steady thump thump thump of his heart in his ear and tried to match his breathing to the rise and fall of his chest.

It took a good ten minutes for Lestrade’s breathing to settle into a rhythm and nearer twenty for his heart to slow back to normal and the tension to leave his body and through the whole time Sherlock kept talking, calm and gentle words he’d learnt from the man he was now trying to comfort, and held him safely in his arms hoping he was being at least some assistance.

Sherlock released his arms once he was sure Lestrade was properly awake and calm and Lestrade sat himself up against the head board and shook his head as he laughed a painful laugh, “Nightmares suck!”

“Yup!” Sherlock moved up the bed to sit up next to him. “Want to share?”

“In this case,” Lestrade rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand, “I very much doubt that a problem shared is a problem halved! Doubled, tripled, quadrupled maybe but certainly not halved!”

“You were dreaming about my brother and that room weren’t you?”

There was a certainty and surety in the statement that couldn’t help but force the truth from Lestrade so he nodded. “Yup!”

Sherlock glanced towards the door, eyes suddenly alert, and Lestrade followed his eyes and listened, catching what he thought could possibly be footsteps on the carpet outside, getting quieter and further away. “How loud was I Sherlock?” Lestrade dropped his head into his hands and scratched at his scalp with his finger nails, “did he hear me?”

“I don’t know,” Sherlock shrugged his shoulders, “it might just be the floorboards you know these old houses.”

Lestrade looked sceptically at Sherlock but decided it was best not to even try and find out, Mycroft would make it known if he’d heard them if he wanted to and if he didn’t then it was probably best to believe that it was just the floorboards.

“Come here.” Sherlock shuffled back under the covers and reached an arm out to Lestrade. “It’s only four, let’s try and get you a couple more hours before we get up?”

For a second Lestrade was uncomfortable at the switch of roles but then he considered just how many nights in the last ten years he’d spent awake worried about Sherlock as he slept against his side without any thought for how much he was disturbing him and he decided that maybe it was his turn to take a little comfort and safety for once.

 

 

It was almost seven thirty when Sherlock and Lestrade made it to the kitchen for breakfast, Mycroft was busy making toast, standing it in a toast rack on the counter, and chopping fruit into bowls. Jam, marmalade, honey and butter sat in the middle of the table alongside a jug of cream and a dish of natural yogurt.

He gestured to the chairs at the table and they slipped into them with a smile, thanking Mycroft for the coffee that quickly appeared in front of them.

“We’ve run out of milk I’m afraid,” Mycroft looked apologetically at Lestrade. “So it’s toast instead of cereal, I hope that’s ok?”

“That’s fine, thank you for doing it.” 

Placing the rack of toast on the table Mycroft kissed Lestrade’s forehead, “my pleasure,” and Lestrade smiled.

Sherlock ate four slices of toast, one with jam, two with honey and one just with butter. Lestrade managed two, both with only butter and Mycroft cleared up the other three, all with marmalade, and all three of them enjoyed the large bowl of fruit they were given, Sherlock adding both yogurt and cream to his, much to Mycroft’s distaste.

“How’s your boy My?”

“He slept well, got more hours than any of us I think,” Mycroft didn’t look up from his breakfast but Lestrade was suddenly sure that he must have been the cause of the noise outside their suite in the night. “He wasn’t too happy that I was on my own when I was getting him changed and sorted though, I suspect he’s not completely at ease again yet after yesterday.”

Mycroft looked up and caught Sherlock’s eye causing him to shuffle uncomfortably in his seat. “Sorry again for that.”

“No need for sorry, it is what it is and we just need to deal with it now.”

“What’s the plan then? How am I going to be properly introduced to my nephew?”

“I thought we could all go and play after breakfast and see if we can wear him out before the meeting later.” Sherlock didn’t ask what meeting leaving Lestrade feeling stupid for not remembering if he’d been told about it but then Mycroft turned to him, taking hold of his hand on the table. “Mummy and father are coming this morning, it’s time for all the secrets to be over.”

“Oh okay,”. Lestrade wasn’t really sure what the correct response was but as Mycroft squeezed his hand and grinned at him he couldn’t help but think he’d got something right.

 

“Don’t speak too quickly or too loudly, don’t touch him unless he makes it clear he wants you too and do NOT teach him any silly names.” Mycroft addressed Sherlock with a warm smile and a wink as he pushed the door of Frazer’s room open ready for uncle Sherlock’s real introduction to his nephew.


	29. Chapter 29

Lestrade stuck his hand in his trouser pocket and traced his fingers over the outline of his mobile phone trying to concentrate his thoughts on the beautiful photographs he’d just taken rather than the entirely suited, booted and closed off Mycroft Holmes who was stood in the hall in front of him.

“We can get stills from the cameras you know Gregory.” Had been Mycroft’s reaction to him pulling his mobile from his pocket with a grin but as he’d snapped a picture of Sherlock smiling widely at Frazer, who was grinning in his arms and playing with his hair, Mycroft had quickly relented and relaxed into the family photo shoot which was one reason his currently distant persona was so disconcerting. Twenty minutes should not have been long enough for such a drastic change to take place.

 

“They will be here in ten minutes, I invited them for ten thirty but they always insist on being half an hour early in order to surprise me.” The distaste in the word ‘surprise’ almost made Lestrade laugh but Sherlock shot him a look and he remained quiet.

“We are going to use this room,” Mycroft took hold of the door handle Sherlock had turned, for the first time in years, just over twelve hours before and pushed the door open with a little less resistance than Sherlock had experiences, and walked in.

Lestrade followed through the door, Sherlock a few steps behind, and looked around the room, trying to pretend he hadn’t seen it before while also trying not to react too badly, and yet badly enough, to what he knew was hidden behind the door. “What is this place?”

Walking over to the desk and slipping himself into the large leather chair behind it Mycroft looked back to them both by the door, eyes focused on them, clearly trying not to flick away to look at the bed behind them. “I believe that you are well aware of what this place is Gregory.” His eyes drifted to Sherlock who was white as a sheet and was chewing on his thumb, “I’m not cross Sherlock.” Mycroft smiled just slightly at his brother “and I know you didn’t know.” Sherlock nodded, dropping his hand from his mouth and flexing his arms by his side.

“Tell us what you want us to do My.”

“Yeah Myc, tell us what you want,” Lestrade stepped closer to Sherlock and slipped his arm around his back, trying to reassure him as he hadn’t stopped shaking despite his best efforts. “We’re here for you, anyway you want.”

For a second he just sat and looked at them, leaning against each other in front of the heavy wooden desk that sat between him and them, there was a lack of clarity in his expression that made Lestrade very uncomfortable. The mask of Mycroft Holmes, distant government official was having to compete with the face of Myc Holmes, father, brother, lover and all round nice guy more than Lestrade had ever seen it have to and even Sherlock seemed concerned by it until suddenly he jumped from his chair and around the desk, and stepped in between them, nestling his head in the gap where their shoulders met, and relaxing as they closed their free arms around his back and held him close between them and he said “Just be here.” 

 

Knock, knock, knock. Ding dong.

Lestrade heard the knock, feeling Mycroft tense between them at the sound, and then the quickly following bell ring and he laughed, half in humour but mostly with nerves, “As much patience as Sherlock then your parents?”

“Ha, Ha inspector,” Sherlock pushed away from them, looking at Lestrade as if he was checking the reaction to the address and Lestrade nodded just slightly, “I’ll get the door?” Mycroft nodded and then smiled as Sherlock leant close to his ear and whispered something before kissing him on the cheek.

As Sherlock walked away Lestrade felt the moment the mood changed, Mycroft squeezed him once around the waist and then stood up straight, pulling his shoulders back and straightening his suit before he walked back around the desk and sat himself in the chair while motioning to Lestrade for him to take his place by the door. This was performance time, time for Lestrade to watch and support and not to over step anything that would stop Mycroft from dealing with this situation in the exact way he chose to so he took a few moments to slip his hand back in his pocket and hold tight to his phone, mentally picturing the image of Mycroft knelt on the floor, holding Frazer’s hands as he finally, for the very first time, pushed himself up to standing on his own two feet. The look of pride on Mycroft’s face, and the look of surprise on Frazer’s when he’d actually managed it, would be burned into his brain for the rest of his days and right now he really needed it.

 

“This office is ridiculous my boy,” Mrs Holmes stepped through the door of the room, glancing around it before she addressed Mycroft who hadn’t moved from the desk, “Who needs a bed in their office? Don’t you know how to use the stairs?”

Mr Holmes entered the room with a little less confidence, nodding at Lestrade as he passed him but other than that he didn’t lift his eyes from the floor.

The door was closed with a squeak and then a bang and everyone turned to look at Sherlock, and Mrs Holmes finally seemed to notice Lestrade stood next to the door. “Mummy, father, this is Detective Inspector Lestrade.”

Lestrade had always wondered about the parents of the Holmes’, even before all this mess, but these people were nothing like he’d expected. 

“And he is?” Mrs Holmes addressed him.

“Never mind him,” Mycroft cut in before Lestrade could answer and all attention returned to him, sat behind the desk. 

Sherlock made his way across the room, to stand by the window a few feet away from his brother while Lestrade stayed, leant against the wall by the door, arms folded across his chest. “Take a seat; I need to speak with you.” Mycroft gestured towards the many options of seating, the chairs in front of the desk, the sofas around the rug and the bed in the corner and looked at his parents with a raised eyebrow, almost demanding that they do as advised.

Sherlock’s eyes were flitting between his parents and Lestrade could see his brain working behind them, cataloguing and questioning, and a fire beginning to burn in them as he worked everything through.

Mrs Holmes finally sat herself in one of the chairs across the desk from her son and Mr Holmes slipped into the other one, keeping his head down and looking at his hands. “Who has a bed in their office Mycie? Who would do that?” 

“Uncle Rudi.”

The name was delivered with deathly calm, it came with one of the calmest, fakest, smiles Lestrade had ever seen on his friend and despite only being able to see the backs of the parents’ heads he knew, from the look on Sherlock’s face, that the reaction the words had received was not good. He took a breath, and stared at Sherlock, willing the force of it to breakthrough and register in his brain to stop him speaking but it didn’t work.

“You knew!” Sherlock stepped closer to Mycroft and addressed his parents, “You knew didn’t you? Or if not knew you suspected?”

“Not now Sherlock,” Mrs Holmes glanced over her shoulder at Lestrade, and then back to her sons.

“Yes now!”

“This is private Sherlock; I will not discuss this with the Inspector present.”

“You are mistaken mummy, Detective Inspector Lestrade is staying right there and you WILL discuss this.” It was hard to decide, from the look he was given at that moment, whether Sherlock wanted him to stay as a friend or whether he was hoping that he had his handcuffs in his pocket and would arrest them if necessary but one thing he did know was that he wasn’t going to leave the room unless Mycroft directly asked him too.

“This is family business Sherlock,” at Mrs Holmes’ emphasis on the word ‘family’ Mycroft snorted a laugh at his desk, drawing everyone’s eyes to him before he raised his hand and apologised for coughing which caused a grin to break out on Sherlock’s face as he caught his brother’s eye and winked before he crossed the room and grabbed Lestrade’s hand and then looked back at his parents.

“And that is why he stays!” he squeezed Lestrade’s hand in reassurance as they both walked around the back of the desk, stopping when they were standing either side of Mycroft in his chair.

 

Trying not to push his luck too far, Sherlock rested his and Lestrade’s hands, still held together, on the back of Mycroft’s chair and Mrs Holmes sank back into her seat as Mr Holmes finally raised his eyes from the floor and looked at Mycroft.

“I am sorry son, I dealt with things once I knew what was happening, I should, however, have done more.”

Lestrade felt the chair start to shake as Mycroft’s whole body trembled and he let go of Sherlock’s hand and moved his to rest on the nape of Mycroft’s neck, thumb rubbing lightly at his neck.

“I did not know until the day before the shooting accident, by then you were an adult and I felt it not my place to discuss it with you.” Mr Holmes looked at Lestrade, as if he was trying to figure something out but then he gave up and looked back at his son. “I can, however, confirm that there was no shooting accident, it was entirely and completely deliberate.”

At that moment all Lestrade wanted to do was reach out and shake the hand of the man who’d done the thing he’d wanted to do ever since Mycroft first told him what his uncle had done but as an officer of the law he decided it would be inappropriate.

“You shot my brother!” Mrs Holmes shrieked at her husband.

“He raped our son,” Mr Holmes glared at his wife and from the shock on her face and on Sherlock’s Lestrade wasn’t sure that it wasn’t for the very first time he’d ever addressed her in such a way. “He abused our boy for a decade or more, on this desk, in that bed, in our own living room and god knows where else!”

All the colour drained from Mrs Holmes face and, for the first time in the last fortnight Lestrade felt sorry for her and for her husband. They’d stuffed up as parents, that was not up for question, but they had clearly just been out of their depth, not complicit in the damage done and that made what was to come feel even worse. 

“Could you confirm for me what you know?” Mycroft leant forward on the desk, causing Lestrade’s hand to slip from his neck, and addressed his father who straightened himself in his chair and looked apologetically at his son.

“I visited the man in this house, in his actual office, to request paperwork in regard to … erm… something that had happened many years ago, he had been drinking rather heavily, became angry at my questions and then threatened harm on Sherlock if I did not leave him alone. When I enquired as to what kind of harm he began to rant about what power he had to make people disappear and how you would help him and do as you were told, as you always did, because you enjoyed keeping his secrets. The way he said it made me feel sick and when he gleefully showed me this room, which has changed very little but for the desk and rug having been cleaned, I knew what he had done to you and I knew all the times I had missed the opportunity to stop him so I made arrangements and the next day I stopped him” Mr Holmes took a breath and his wife leaned towards him, wiping away the tears that were running down his cheeks and took careful hold of his hand. “I am sorry that I did not do more, or notice earlier or speak with you about it.”

Mycroft hadn’t moved as he’d listened to his father while Sherlock had remained leaning on the back of his chair, eyes flitting from his father to his mother and back again, and Lestrade knew that Sherlock wouldn’t have missed the guilty looks that Mrs Holmes was trying her best to cover up even if Mycroft had missed them as he concentrated on his father.

“Mrs Holmes,” the voice was all Detective Inspector and entirely not Gregory Lestrade and the demand in it forced her to look up at him despite her attempts not too. “When did you suspect?” Mrs Holmes shuffled uncomfortably in her chair as all eyes focused on her, “It is clear that this is not entirely news to you”

“I didn’t know!” She shot up from her chair, turning away and clicking her heels heavily on the wooden floor as she made her way to the window, “How dare you suggest that I knew and did nothing Inspector.”

Lestrade made to move away from Mycroft and he reached for his hand to stop him but Lestrade waved him off and mouthed, ‘don’t worry’ at him as he went to join Mrs Holmes at the window.

“I didn’t mean to suggest that you allowed this to happen and did nothing Mrs Holmes,” She turned and glared at him as he began to speak but as the calm and caring manner of Lestrade replaced the demand of the Inspector a small tear escaped from her left eye and he instinctively reached out his hand to wipe it away with his thumb. “I simply wanted to know when you became concerned.”

With a breath, and without breaking eye contact with Lestrade, Mrs Holmes started talking, first about how much time Mycroft had suddenly spent with his uncle when they had Sherlock to deal with as well as him and then about the changes in her eldest boy as he’d gone from a happy playful boy into a closed off and secretive one. She spoke of the day Mycroft had returned home from a visit and had rushed for a shower, taking almost an hour about it, and of an occasion when he had begged not to go but she had been unable to explain to her brother why so he had gone to appease her.

As Mrs Holmes talked to Lestrade, seemingly unaware of the rest of the men in the room his heart broke for her, not just because she had clearly had concerns for her son for a very long time while having no idea what to do to help, but because in everything she said she made no reference to her daughter, the secret daughter that she thought he and Sherlock had no knowledge of, and he could feel his heart breaking for a woman who had been forced to forget her daughter so completely.

Finally Mrs Holmes stopped talking, having concluded her monologue by turning to her husband and thanking him for dealing with her brother for her and she looked at Mycroft with what could only be described as pleading eyes. “I am so sorry my dear boy, I asked my brother what was going on so many times, I am sorry I always believed him.”

“Can you sit down for me mummy?” To anyone else in the room it probably seemed that Mycroft was ignoring his mother’s apology but it was clear to Lestrade that that couldn’t be further from the truth, Mycroft heard it and wanted to accept it but not before he felt he deserved it and that would not be the case until his mother knew of Eurus and of Frazer.

Mr Holmes reached out a hand to his wife, to encourage her back to her chair and Lestrade supported her in the movement, offering her a tissue from his pocket as she sat down, before he made his way back to Mycroft’s side of the desk.

“I need to speak now and I require that you listen to me until I am finished, if you still believe me worthy of your apologies when I have finished then I will accept them then.”

Fear ran into Mrs Holmes’ eyes but she nodded silently and Mr Holmes did the same.

“I am required to inform you,” He sounded so formal and so distant that Lestrade found himself stepping away from Mycroft’s chair, back towards the door where he leaned against the door frame and watched the car crash that was about to take place. “That Uncle Rudi kept many secrets and that I have sustained a number of them for fear that I would lose my brother were I to reveal them. The secret I kept from Sherlock was revealed to him ten days ago and he appears to have forgiven me. The secret I have kept from you since it was revealed to me a number of years after its inception may nullify your wish to apologise to me for anything.”

“Nothing could ever do that my boy,” Mr Holmes stopped speaking as Mycroft lifted his hand at him and then brought it to his forehead, rubbing hard at his head before he covered his eyes, protecting himself from seeing the information hit home.

“My sister is not dead.”

The silence stretched and the Holmes parents looked between each other and then to their sons before they looked back to each other again and then turned to glare at Mycroft, “Alive? Eurus is alive?”

“She is alive and safe but she is not well. She is protected by a lovely man, and under certain conditions she has agreed to see you should you wish to.”

“Alive! How long have you known Mycroft?!” Mrs Holmes was angry and Mycroft flinched at the words.

“Your brother ‘killed her’ because I wasn’t hiding things well enough from you. He threatened to make Sherlock disappear as well if I did not behave. After a year he informed me that she was actually alive, although he would not tell me where she was, and he made threats to stop that being the case. I discovered her whereabouts many years later from a young woman I became acquainted with when I commenced employment with the government, she was not supposed to tell me but Lady Smallwood has been as close a thing to a friend as I have had until this week.” Mycroft’s eyes wandered to Lestrade by the door, who smiled at him and winked. “Eurus has been very unwell but she is now safe and she is under the protection of three men who will not see her harmed.” 

Reaching for his brother’s hand with his left hand Mycroft reached his right hand towards Lestrade and he smiled widely when Lestrade reacted quickly and was by his side, arm around his shoulder before Mr and Mrs Holmes had finished processing his words.

“There is one more thing, before we conclude this conversation.” Mycroft dipped his hand into Lestrade’s trouser pocket, almost earning himself a reprimand from his mother who seemed to quickly think better of it, and he withdrew his phone, unlocking the pattern lock without issue and then flicking through the photos they had taken earlier. Having found the one he was looking for, that being a selfie Sherlock had taken, because he had the longest arms, which showed Lestrade lying on his back on the floor, Mycroft’s head on one shoulder, Sherlock’s on the other and Frazer lying on his chest, looking up at the camera with them all smiling widely, Mycroft put the phone on the desk and slid it towards his parents.

“You are grandparents. You have a grandson. His name is Frazer Michael Holmes. He is resident with Gregory and myself and he will remain with us. Eurus has agreed to meet with you and to spend time with you should you wish to but only under the condition that you make no attempt to remove Frazer from my care.”

“That wasn’t the only condition.” Lestrade interrupted before Mrs Holmes could speak but she did reach forward for the phone, looking at the picture as she showed it to her husband. “Her primary condition for causing no further trouble for any of you and for meeting with you was that you offer no hurt or pain to Mycroft, now or going forward.” 

Mycroft looked up at Lestrade in confusion, he had never been told about that and he didn’t seem sure that Lestrade was telling the truth about his sister’s wishes. 

“It is a requirement that I meet with her and confirm your commitment to these conditions before she will agree to meet you.”

“Why you? Why do you get to decide?” Lestrade would have sworn that Mrs Holmes was trying to sound angry but instead she just sounded lost and in pain and desperate for this situation to be concluded.

“Because Eurus trusts me, that’s all. Because I have never let her down. She was and very much is only a child who has felt abandoned by her family because you were unable to see her due to the lies surrounding her. I am new, I care for her brothers and for her son and she trusts me.”

“I think,” Mr Holmes suddenly stood from his chair pulling his wife to her feet next to him and putting the phone back down on the desk, “We need to go home!” And with that he wrapped his arm around Mrs Holmes shoulder and walked her from the room, down the hall and straight out through the front door, leaving it to bang closed behind them.

Mycroft had quickly stood up from his seat and followed his parents a few steps towards the door but as the front door slammed closed all the control in his body left him and his knees buckled collapsing him to the floor in the hall where his brother and his lover quickly joined him, wrapping him up between them as emotions held for the last thirty years left him in sobs, screams, shouts and tears.


	30. Chapter 30

“I’ll go and play with Frazer, you two warm up the lunch. I promise I won’t scare him, you can keep an eye on the screen if you don’t trust me?” 

“Are you sure?” Lestrade felt a little unsure as to whether this was the best plan given Sherlock and Frazer had spent little more than an hour together and that had been with him and Mycroft present but Mycroft seemed happy with the plan as he nodded at Sherlock and then climbed himself up from the floor.

“I need to change; I need to get out of this suit. Did you bring clothes yesterday?” He looked at Lestrade.

“I did yeah, haven’t unpacked them yet, why”

“I need to borrow something, I only own suits and they just aren’t right for at home with you.”

“Suits should very definitely only be worn for work, weddings or taking your sexy boyfriend out for dinner,” Lestrade stepped towards Mycroft and then lifted himself on tiptoes to kiss his lips, “I’m not sure I have anything long enough or skinny enough though.”

Mycroft blushed just slightly and smiled, “Let’s check shall we?”

Lestrade nodded and jogged away and up the stairs while Mycroft followed him a little more slowly.

 

Mycroft dressed in tracksuit bottoms, not quite long enough to reach his ankles, a two thousand and three/four Arsenal home shirt and no socks was even more sexy than naked Mycroft, Lestrade had come to realise in the last ten minutes although that might possibly be because they were his clothes not Mycroft’s or because in the process of choosing them Mycroft had hung the rest of the contents of his bags in the right hand side of the huge wardrobe, placed his underwear in the previously empty middle drawer of the chest under the window and placed his book and toiletries bag on top of the bedside table on the right hand side of the bed in a room that it seemed it was now both practical and expected that they would share.

 

 

“Have you seen what he’s doing?” Mycroft glanced at the computer screen that was sat on the kitchen table as he set out the cutlery.

“What’s he up to now? They were building towers of tins of beans and peas a few minutes ago.”

“It appears that they’ve moved on to rolling them across the floor, peas are racing beans, I wish this had sound!” Mycroft laughed and Lestrade did his best impression of Sherlock explaining why the bigger tin of beans would cover more ground than the smaller one. “Frazer isn’t going to know what’s hit him is he?”

“John says he’s great with Rosie, spends hours playing with her.”

“You mean experimenting on her, everything my brother does is an experiment even if he doesn’t know it.”

“Maybe but the kids appear to love it and so does he so I’m not complaining,” Lestrade moved up behind Mycroft and wrapped his arms around him, nipping and kissing at his neck. “We will need babysitters sometimes and who better than uncle Sherlock?”

“You make a good point,” Mycroft pushed the computer lid closed and turned in Lestrade’s arms, kissing him slowly, moving one hand to grasp at his arse and the other to lift the hem of his shirt and run fingers gently up his spine as they relaxed together, enjoying the quiet and the feel of each other.

 

“Da da da.”

Lestrade jumped away, banging his back against the counter “Oow, Fuck!” 

“Not in front of the little one Lestrade.” 

“What? Er what?” Mycroft was gaping like a fish at Sherlock, stood in the kitchen doorway with Frazer on his hip.”

“Da da da, geg geg, da da”

Lestrade was the first to switch his mind back into gear and he reached for Frazer, taking him into his arms while looking quizzically at Sherlock. “What are you doing here sweetheart? And what have you done to Uncle Sherlock’s face?”

“Sherlock!” Mycroft wasn’t quite so calm about the situation, “Why have you brought him up here? You said you would look after him for me.”

“Da da da,” Frazer shouted and waved at his daddy who suddenly broke into a smile as he looked at him.

“You are a very clever boy Frazer, but it’s too cold up here for you, you’ll freeze in just a nappy and we have absolutely no clothes or anything else for you.” He instinctively walked closer to Lestrade and wrapped his arm around Frazer trying to add to the shared body heat.

Sherlock grabbed his phone from his pocket, tapping away, as he spoke without looking at any of them. “He cried when I tried to leave, showed me the picture of you two through the glass and shouted for you. I couldn’t leave him like that.”

“You sentimental idiot.” It was said with humour and clearly with more love than Sherlock expected because he blushed to the tip of his ears as he looked up just slightly and met his brother’s eye for a second. “What are you doing now?”

“Making arrangements. Is lunch ready, I’m starving?”

It was clear that that was the only explanation they were going to get so Lestrade shrugged questioning shoulders at Mycroft and then kissed Frazer before sitting him on the table next to Mycroft’s setting, “Sit still kidda,” and switching off the oven.

“Sit down you two; I guess this is going four ways now.”

Mycroft looked dubious at a small person sat on his table and a little concerned at the idea of hot food which he was pretty sure Frazer had never had but Frazer seemed nothing but excited about his new adventure as he beat a rhythm on the table with Mycroft’s spoon and tried to pull Sherlock’s attention away from his phone.

“I’ll just find something for this young man to wear,” Mycroft slipped out of the room and Sherlock placed one hand on Frazer’s back, preventing any attempts to move, but continued to tap away at his phone one handed.

 

_“Are you at work today? Who has Rosie? Do you have a spare highchair? Any spare vests? SH”_

“Working until five, I thought you and Molly had Rosie, Mrs Hudson has one and some vests, as does Molly. Should I be worried? John”

_“I am confident Molly will have Rosie if she was expecting to. Spare cot? Car seat? SH”_

“Thanks for the reassurance! Not all of us are rich Sherlock, I’m lucky if I have one of everything. John”

_“That needs to change. I’ll try Molly. A car will pick you up at five. SH”_

“Should I be worried?”

_“Notice is rarely given of a dangerous kidnapping. SH”_

“I’ll take that as a yes! John.”

 

 

_“Hi Molly, I miss you. Xx”_

“I delete all messages that start with hi!”

_“Sorry ;-) hello there Molly my darling, how are you? I’ve missed you. Xx_

“You what? Seriously Sherlock, don’t take the piss out of me, we were supposed to be babysitting Rosie but you chose not to be here. Where are you? I thought your flight got in yesterday?”

_“I’m with Greg; I always spend the night after a case with him. How’s Rosie? John says you have a spare High Chair? Xx”_

“You what! Are you kidding me Sherlock?!”

_“Not in that way! I never told you did I? I apologise, please forgive me, I did not wish to be a burden to you so early in our relationship. I am sorry. Xx”_

“Burden me? What? Rosie’s fine, she’s sat in her, not spare, high chair having lunch now, are you coming to join us so you can explain? Xxx”

_“He helps me recover from being an idiot and not looking after myself, has done since we met, I’m needy, he cares so it doesn’t matter. Miss you xx”_

“I care!” 

_“It’s different; you can ask him to explain later, he’s better at it than me. Mycroft’s car will collect you at four thirty, please bring the high chair and some spare vests if you have any. Xx”_  
_“Oh and Rosie ;-) love you.xx”_

“John’s collecting Rosie at five thirty?”

_“No he isn’t, see you soon. Miss you. Xx”_

“Miss you too you irritating sod!”

 

 

“Eat Sherlock” Lestrade hated texting at the table and especially now that there was a little one with them. “You know full well that you’re free once this is eaten, after case rules complete, not that you have to go.” Lestrade nudged Mycroft’s arm and gestured in Sherlock’s direction.

“Oh yes” Mycroft realised Lestrade’s intention, “please don’t feel that you have to leave brother mine, the guest suite is yours whenever you may wish to use it. I know that you will return to Baker Street once it is repaired and that you will no doubt be spending time with Miss Hooper,”

“For god sake Mycroft,” Sherlock interrupted, “her name’s Molly, it’s a beautiful name; she likes it and she likes her friends to use it.”

“I would not be presumptuous enough to place myself in that category Sherlock; you forget how badly I handled relations with Miss Hooper while you were dead. I will never assume friendly familiarity with your beautiful lady. I hope, however, to one day earn her forgiveness for my previous failings and if she wishes me to use her given name I would be honoured that she allowed it, until then Miss or Dr Hooper it will remain.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and shook his head but he seemed to decide against a response.

“Anyway, the room is yours should you wish it, the three of us,” Mycroft smiled at Frazer while Lestrade fed him as he sat on the table between them dressed in one of Mycroft’s most expensive shirts, sleeves rolled up and the front now covered with his dinner, “would very much like to have you around.”

Lestrade had expected some argument or some disagreement but the only response was a ‘thank you’ and then Sherlock turned his concentration to his meal, quickly catching up with his fellow diners.

 

 

“So, your face?” 

Sherlock looked quizzically at Lestrade, clearly unsure what the question was.

“You have something drawn on your face, where’d it come from?”

“Oh,” Sherlock jumped out of his seat and flashed a look around the room in search of a mirror, “Frazer did it, he was doing something with his finger on my cheek but I couldn’t make it out so I gave him my pen then I could have a look in the mirror. I forgot when I smelt lunch; food is the devil to the brain.” Sherlock winked and grinned and Lestrade rolled his eyes at him.

“Do you have a mirror My?”

“Mirrors have not really been my most favoured thing Sherlock you do, however, have the technology.”

“Shit sorry!”

“Stop apologising when there is no need, it is getting rather tiresome.”

Mycroft caught Sherlock’s eye and winked in a way that was decidedly reminiscent of Lestrade and Sherlock smiled warmly at him.

“Technology?” Sherlock queried,

“Oh give it here!” Mycroft reached out and swiped Sherlock’s phone from his hand, pressing a few buttons, “if you insist on paying this more attention than you do us at least have mind of its useful functions.”

Mycroft passed the phone back and Sherlock looked at the screen, seeing himself in it and visibly cringed at his own stupidity before he pressed the shutter button and took a photo of his cheek and studied it closely.

“Is that?” Sherlock turned the phone slightly as if hoping that would help but the auto rotate had other ideas so he slammed the phone down on the table and looked at his brother instead. “What does it look like?” and then turned his cheek.

Mycroft studied Sherlock’s cheek carefully and then reached out his hand and ran his finger slowly over the pen marks.

“That’s it! That’s what he did, what’s he drawn?”

“It appears,” Lestrade could see tears welling in Mycroft’s eyes and Sherlock seemed to have noticed them because he was looking increasingly nervous. “That your nephew was trying to draw a heart shape on you cheek.”

“He what?” Lestrade gasped out as he leaned over to have a closer look and Sherlock looked at them both in confusion before he turned to look at Frazer who had eaten all his lunch and was now chewing the front of Mycroft’s shirt, trying to suck out the spills. 

“Why a love heart on my cheek Frazer.”

“Because,” Mycroft decided to answer for Frazer deeming explanation a little beyond his vocabulary right now. “Hearts mean family don’t they little man?”

“They what?”

“Michael, who looked after Frazer from the day he was born until we discovered him in his cell in Sherrinford, was not allowed to speak to him or to touch him but he did make a marvellous job of communicating with him and playing with him and he taught him lots of things including a code of pictures for identifying people. Smiles were for people who were nice and would be kind to him and love hearts were for family, for those who loved him. It appears that our little boy considers you family.”

“Well then,” Sherlock ruffled Frazer’s hair and grinned at him as he pulled his pen from his pocket and handed it to him. “Maybe it’s daddy and Geg geg’s turn now.” 

Lestrade had to wipe his eyes as he saw the look of wide eyed awe on Mycroft’s face at Sherlock’s use of the word daddy, no word had ever seemed to have such an effect on a person as that five letter word had on Mycroft.


	31. Chapter 31

“It’s time these two had a nap isn’t it?” Sherlock asked Lestrade as he watched Mycroft wipe Frazer’s hands and face clean and removed the very oversize shirt over his head, throwing it onto a pile on the counter.

“Well it’s time for Frazer’s.” Lestrade winked at Sherlock, “I don’t know about Mycroft, he might consider himself too old to be put down for a nap.”

Mycroft swung round to look at them in horror, as if the idea of sleeping during the day was the most unbelievable thing he had ever heard of. “I have demolition plans while Frazer sleeps, I will not be going to bed.”

“Demolition? That sounds energetic!” 

“I can’t think of a better word to use for smashing every inch of that bloody room to bits and, hopefully, burning it on a bonfire in the garden, can you?”

“Honestly?” Lestrade and Sherlock both grinned at him, “That sounds like an amazing plan.”

“However,” Sherlock ducked his head a little so that he was not quite making eye contact with his brother. “I think that should wait a few hours until the whole family are here to help. You two should take some time together while Frazer sleeps and I go and buy a few things ready for the introductions later.”

Mycroft looked confused and just slightly angry at being advised what to do by his brother but after a second he calmed himself and spoke as calmly as he could. “The whole family Sherlock? Introductions? Things we need? What have you done Brother dear?”

Standing up from his chair Sherlock approached his brother carefully, casting a glance at Lestrade who responded by reaching to lift Frazer off the table and stepping away slightly from Mycroft, and he gently placed his arm around his brother’s waist and brought the other hand up to cradle against his neck, encouraging his head down onto his shoulder. “It’s been a hell of a day My and a hell of a time since I showed up. You need some time with Greg and then you need to introduce your son to those who really matter; I meant what I said earlier.” And then he kissed his brother’s temple gently and relaxed into the hold.

Earlier? Lestrade wanted to ask but he knew it wasn’t his place to intrude on the brother’s secrets, he did, however, very much agree with the idea that some time just the two of them would be nice. “I think he’s right Myc, Frazer needs sleep and smashing things up might not be conducive to that so we could just relax together somewhere for a bit and get ready for whatever it is he’s planned for us later.”

“It’s only John, Rosie and Molly and maybe Mrs Hudson if I can get hold of her. I thought I’d order from Angelo’s, so we don’t have to cook, and Frazer could get to know everyone and,” Sherlock and Mycroft were still cuddled together but Lestrade noticed Sherlock’s arms tighten just slightly as he paused minutely “they could meet my brother, the real one, not the mask of one that they’ve believed you to be until now. I meant it when I said we don’t need our parents My, we have each other and a whole group of people who’ve never given up on us despite our problems,”

“Tell him Myc,” Lestrade spoke with a grin and stepped towards them, “Tell him what you told Michael,” Mycroft lifted his head and looked nervously at Lestrade, “Tell him.”

“Tell me what My? Come on.” Sherlock looked between them, eyes shining and his whole body becoming animated as he held Mycroft’s shoulders and searched his eyes for the answer.

Mycroft smiled shyly and blushed nervously as he eventually looked Sherlock in the eye, “John, Rosie, Miss Hooper, Mrs Hudson and you were first introduced to Frazer by Michael through the glass of his cell. You were all introduced with the heart symbol.”

“Don’t be shy Myc; tell him what you told Michael that made him teary.” Lestrade pushed knowing Sherlock would love to hear it just as much as he had and Mycroft blushed even harder.

“I told him that family isn’t always blood.”

Sherlock smiled widely, wrapping his arms around his brother and lifting him clean off the floor “Which is exactly what I told you this morning! Fuck My, I think I’m going to spend the rest of my life realising just how much I’ve missed you!”

 

 

Frazer settled for his nap without any trouble, he was clearly exhausted from the excitement of his trip upstairs and probably glad to get back to the warmth of his cell, which had been fitted with under floor heating and warm air filters because Frazer spent all his time in just a nappy, so Lestrade and Mycroft made their way up to their room just ten minutes after Sherlock had left the house, taking the offered keys, and assuring them that he wouldn’t be home for at least two hours.

“So then Mycroft,” for a split second Mycroft’s face tightened before he relaxed it again, it was so quick anyone but Lestrade would have missed it but he clearly didn’t. “What’s wrong? What did I do Myc?” Mycroft smiled and, being a pretty good detective, Lestrade didn’t miss it or what he thought it meant. “Myc good, Mycroft bad?” 

Mycroft nodded, “If you don’t mind.” 

“I don’t mind at all, I just know that you like full names, you’ve been calling me Gregory for most of the week.”

“I have haven’t I?” Mycroft sat himself on the bed, sliding back against the headboard, tapping the bed next to him and raised a cheeky eyebrow. “I wonder why I’ve been doing that?”

“Yes why have you?” Lestrade asked with a smile as he climbed up next to Mycroft and snuggled in against his side.

“I suspect that with a little thought you could work it out but, as I’d rather not waste time, I’ll simply tell you that you told me that I had to if I wanted you to use the name I preferred to hear from you so I did.” He tugged Lestrade’s shirt from the waist of his trousers as he spoke so his fingers could run against the soft skin of his side.

“I did?”

“You did.”

Lestrade thought for a minute, or more accurately tried to think as Mycroft’s fingers distracted him and then he gave up. “I don’t get it.” He could hear Mycroft’s heart rate increasing and his fingers stop moving against his side as he felt him tense next to him so he thought harder, tracing back over the last few days and suddenly stumbled right into it. “Ah Mr Holmes, you’re referring to the name game.”

All the tension rushed from Mycroft in just one breath, “Exactly inspector.”

“Well then,” Lestrade moved himself on to his knees and knelt himself either side of Mycroft’s exceeding long legs, “Game over but I’ll call you Myc anyway?”

“That would be ... erm ... thank you.” Mycroft closed his eyes and shook his head as finger and thumb rubbed at his forehead. “What is your preference?” He didn’t look up, almost shielding his eyes as he spoke but Lestrade leaned forward removing his hand and kissed him slowly and carefully, enjoying the sound he forced from Mycroft’s throat and the relaxation it brought to his face.

“You can call me anything,” Lestrade said as he broke the kiss and then he leant closer, bringing his lips right to Mycroft’s ear and whispered, “But Gregory always sounds so sexy on your lips”

“Well then … Gregory,” it had taken less than a beat of his heart for Mycroft to switch their positions so Lestrade was on his back on the bed, crowded in against the headboard and he was knelt across his knees, “why don’t we play with that idea while we have a few minutes.”

Lestrade stared wide eyed at him, totally lost in the words and the sureness of them, and then he grinned as Mycroft pulled his shirt off over his head, with the confidence of a man who had done this far more than once and then stood up on the bed, making short work of his trousers and pants. 

Mycroft looked down at him with a grin and then his face slowly changed, becoming hard and demanding and questioning and almost to his own surprise Lestrade felt his hands start to move to the hem of his shirt and suddenly he’d sat himself up, eyes still locked with Mycroft’s, and was pulling his shirt off over his head. 

Mycroft quirked a smile and raised his eyebrows demandingly and within a second Lestrade was led back on his back, easing his trousers and briefs over his hips and sliding them down to his feet where he kicked them off and dropped them onto the floor. 

Even when Mycroft broke eye contact, to slide his eyes slowly and warmly over Lestrade’s body, he found it impossible to look away, knowing Mycroft would expect to meet his eye the second he looked back and the look he received when their eyes met again fired something in his brain that ran right down his spine and made his toes curl.

“Well done … Gregory,” Mycroft was still stood on the bed, one foot either side of Lestrade’s hips and as Lestrade’s eyes started to wander down his body he coughed, a cough Lestrade was sure he’d heard him use before in a very different context and it had exactly the same effect, drawing his attention back to his face and making his skin blush. 

Eyes that spoke a thousand words and a face that said everything despite it clearly saying nothing had Lestrade’s heart beating hard in his chest, faster and stronger as the slight roll of his shoulder, the dilating of his pupils and the beading of sweat on his brow told Lestrade exactly what Mycroft’s hand was doing to his cock even though he didn’t dare look away from those eyes to see.

A raising of an eyebrow, a slight furrowing of his brow and the slow swipe of his tongue across his lower lip and suddenly Lestrade was up on his knees, licking his lips and swallowing hard as saliva began to pool on his mouth. His eyes never left his lovers, he knew he was close, the heat radiating from another body called him closer and the smell and almost taste in the air made his shuffle nearer, earning him a quirk of a smile and a raised eyebrow as Mycroft removed his hand from his cock and lifted both arms behind his head, weaving his fingers together, and then watched Lestrade. Question, challenge and demand a clear combination on his face. 

Finally daring to look away Lestrade ran his eyes slowly down Mycroft’s body, knowing exactly where they were going but teasing himself all the same, and he marvelled at the power this man currently had over him, shuddering as a spike of want ran from his brain right down to his cock. 

For reasons, that seemed to be entirely of his own brain’s making, Lestrade slipped both hands behind his back, holding his left wrist with his right hand as he licked his lips slowly before running the tip of his tongue firmly around the head of Mycroft’s cock.

The sound Mycroft made was loud enough for Lestrade to be glad that Sherlock wasn’t home but it didn’t deter him from repeating the action twice more before kissing his way, with wet open mouthed kisses, from the tip of his cock right down to the base and, without any warning wrapping his lips around one of his balls, rolling it between his lips with his tongue, something it was clear from Mycroft’s buckled keeps and gasps of ‘fuck’ as they collapsed onto the bed, he hadn’t experienced before.

Mycroft laughed, a real full bodied laugh, as they tried to extricate themselves from one another and, once Lestrade had shaken himself from whatever control he’d just been under he joined him as they wriggled to find their way into each other’s arms, Lestrade ending up with his head on Mycroft’s chest and their legs tangled together.

“That was rather unexpected.” Mycroft grinned.

“Which bit? Me sucking on your balls or you somehow taking control of my brain just by looking at me?” 

“The sucking on my balls bit! That was fucking intense.” He leant down and kissed Lestrade before grinning at him and letting his eyes take over again. “My ability to control people just by the quirk of an eyebrow is well known in diplomatic circles.”

“It is is it?” Lestrade waggled his eyebrows suggestively and then suddenly stopped, panic wading into his brain telling him what a bloody awful joke he just made but Mycroft just grinned and kissed him far less gently.

“I never told you to do anything, I never said you hadn’t to look away and I certainly never told you to put your hand behind your back. All very good ideas but all of your own doing.”

“You know you’re a really scary bastard right?”

Mycroft nodded and then cast wicked eyes at him as he leaned close to his ear, racking his fingers slowly down his torso before taking a firm grip of his cock, and whispered. “What’s worse, Gregory, is that I’m a really scary bastard who’s about to make you beg.”


	32. Chapter 32

Lestrade opened his eyes, stretched and relaxed back against Mycroft’s chest as he checked his watch and wondered what had woken him from a very pleasant hour’s sleep. Mycroft yawned, tightening his arm just slightly, “What time is it?”

“Four o’clock, we’ve slept well after having fun.” Lestrade rolled towards Mycroft and kissed the first warm skin he came into contact with. “You ok?” 

“Yeeesss” the word stretched as he yawned again, “More than ok.”

“Good good” Lestrade grinned and leaned up to kiss him gently on the lips, “I love you Myc. Totally and completely love you.”

Mycroft blushed over every inch of visible skin but, for once, he didn’t seem in any way uncomfortable at the sentiment and Lestrade felt his heart warm at that rather significant step forward.

“Come on, time to get dressed.” 

Lestrade rolled out of bed as Mycroft pushed himself up to sitting, leaning against the headboard, and watched him cross the room to the wardrobe to select himself something clean to wear ready for whatever Sherlock had planned. “Do you have anything else I can wear? I’m not sure that John or Miss Hooper requires the added shock of me in a football shirt in addition to the revaluation of Frazer’s existence.”

Lestrade laughed “Yeah, it might be a bit much for them all at once, I’ll have a look.” He pulled both wardrobe doors open and then turned to look quizzically at Mycroft over his shoulder. “I thought you only had suits in here?”

“I do,” Mycroft almost leapt out of bed coming up behind Lestrade in less than two seconds and wrapping his arms around his waist, leaning his head on his shoulder. “What’ve you found?”

“A need for a lock on the bedroom door I think!”

“What?” Mycroft grabbed a pair of discarded pants off the floor, seeming suddenly nervous about his nakedness.

“Look” Lestrade lifted a hanger out of the wardrobe and held it up in front of him. The hanger contained a pair of black jeans, a black belt, with gold buckle, running around the waist, and a deep purple, short sleeved, button up shirt. “This doesn’t look much like a suit to me, and this,” He hung the first hanger on the back of the door and reached for another, this one rather smaller, “Most certainly isn’t one of your suits.”

Mycroft leaned round, snagging the hanger from Lestrade’s hand and he held it up looking in awe at the size of the clothes on it. The hanger had the smallest pair of black trousers and the tiniest purple shirt Lestrade had ever seen hanging on it, a complete match of the others and Mycroft shook his head with a smile, “Sherlock?”

Lestrade kissed him gently on the cheek, “I guess that answers what woke us up.”

Mycroft stared at the baby clothes for a moment, running his eyes over the size of them and feeling the softness of the material, “I’m not sure what worries me the most to be honest, Sherlock sneaking in here while we’re asleep or him developing such emotions and sentiment that he would go out and buy these in the first place.”

Wrapping his arms around Mycroft Lestrade gave him a squeeze and kissed the end of his nose, “He loves his brother and his nephew, you’re just going to have to get used to it!”

 

 

By the time the doorbell rang at 5pm Mycroft had showered and dressed in the clothes Sherlock had bought him, Lestrade had showered and changed into some low slung cargo pants and a black hoody jumper that looked so cosy that Mycroft had made him promise that he could borrow it when the weather was cold, and Frazer was dressed in proper clothes for the very first time, something he seemed quite please by but which had been quite traumatic for the adults.

Lestrade had worried that, having never worn them before, Frazer wouldn’t like clothes and they’d struggle to get him into them but in the event he’d actually been rather excited about the idea which had, of course, caused its own problems. 

Mycroft hadn’t dressed another person since Sherlock was a couple of years old and Lestrade had only ever had the pleasure with a much older Sherlock so it had taken the two of them, and rather a lot of coordination, to get Frazer’s excitedly flailing arms and kicking legs into his clothes but he’d seemed very happy once they were on and especially so when Mycroft opened the door of his cell and Lestrade helped him toddle through the door, holding both his hands to keep him steady. 

When the cell door had closed behind them and Mycroft had taken one of Frazer’s hands, leaving him to walk, very slowly, between them, Lestrade had hoped that Mycroft was right about stills from the security cameras because this was a moment he’d very much like to look at again.

 

 

‘Ding Dong’ 

“I’ll get it,” Sherlock jumped from his seat, “you two stay here and keep Frazer company, I need to speak with Molly.”

“Speak with or kiss brother mine?” Mycroft’s face crinkled in a full face grin as he raised his eyebrows suggestively and Sherlock blushed to the very tip of his ears and smiled back far more shyly.

“You’re evil!”

“But you love him anyway right?” Lestrade chimed in with a grin and kissed Mycroft’s cheek.

“Not as much as I love Molly!” Sherlock stood for a second, clearly taking in the shocked looks on the three faces staring at him before he grinned and swept out of the room, rushing for the door.

 

“What is this all about Sherlock? Where am I? Why have you had me brought here?”

Sherlock smiled at Rosie as she sat on Molly’s hip chewing on her knuckles and winked as he leaned past her and kissed Molly on the cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

“If you missed me that much you’d have been where you should have been this morning and you wouldn’t have had to miss me!”

“I know, I’m really sorry, I’m …erm… it’s.” He stumbled over his words and then felt a stab in his heart as all Molly’s anger dissipated and she suddenly looked concerned and anxious about what was upsetting him so much that he was struggling to put it into words.

“Are you ok? Sherlock? Talk to me Sherlock.”

After a second of actually feeling the pain in his heart he gave himself a shake and reached for the nappy bag she was carrying on her shoulder. “I owe you an explanation, come in, let me explain. Please.”

Molly took a step through the door and then hesitated, looking at Sherlock and then over her shoulder towards the vehicle she had arrived in. “the highchair’s in the car.”

“The kitchen’s at the end of the corridor, I’ll get the highchair and I’ll meet you both there.”

Still looking very confused, and just a little bit angry, Molly didn’t argue and she turned her attention to Rosie, “This is an interesting adventure isn’t in Rosie, I suppose we knew what we were getting ourselves into when we let Uncle Sherlock into our lives didn’t we?”

Walking to the car to retrieve the highchair Sherlock found himself wondering what Molly would be like with a child of her own, a thought that should probably have scared him but instead just made him feel slightly jealous of his brother and of his best friends.

 

 

“I’m making tea.” The cups were set on the table and the kettle was boiling by the time he reached the kitchen, “is there anything for Rosie?”

Smiling in wonder at the normality of Molly stood in the kitchen, Rosie on one hip, making tea, Sherlock opened the cupboard door and reached out a small bottle of water, “Do you fancy this sweetheart? It’s Frazer’s but I know he won’t mind sharing with you.”

“Frazer?!” The confusion was clear in Molly’s voice as was the edge of anger and Sherlock shuddered under her gaze. “Please explain where I am and why I’m here Sherlock and who the hell Frazer is! Don’t you think it’s been a hard enough on me already? You not coming when you said you would, idly dropping into conversation that you’ve been sleeping with Greg and then bringing me to some random man’s house, having me make tea in his kitchen and then telling my goddaughter that he’s happy to share his drinks with her?”

For a second Sherlock saw a flash in his brain of how, just a few days ago, he would have responded to Molly. He saw the moment he told her she was wrong, the look on her face when he ‘explained’ the situation with all the condescension and ridicule he could muster, and the very moment she once again accepted just how stupid she was compared to his genius and he felt his breath catch and his heart jump and an overwhelming urge to apologise for the last ten years.

“This is Mycroft’s house, Greg is fucking Mycroft not me and I’m a twat!”

Molly’s hand flew up to cover Rosie’s ear as she hissed “Not in front of the little one Sherlock” and he laughed, a full body laugh and closed the gap between them wrapping his arms around her and Rosie and kissing the top of her head.

“What are to laughing at?” Molly looked up with pain in her eyes and he tightened his hold of her.

“You are totally amazing Molly, I don’t tell you that enough.”

“Then why are you laughing at me?” She pushed away from his arms and moved to sit Rosie in her highchair, passing the water bottle from the table.

“I’m not laughing at you,” he took hold of her arm and swirled her away from the table, bringing her into his arms and leaning down to kiss her properly now that her arms were empty, “I just realised how much you live in my brain, how much you’re always with me.”

Molly blushed and tried to hide her face in his chest but then gave up and pushed up onto her tip toes, pulling him down by the collar of his shirt so she could kiss him gently on the lips before she let him go and then pointed to the seat at the table. “Sit there and explain.”

“Yes ma’am,” Sherlock winked and slipped into the seat ready to do as he was told.

 

 

 

 

Sherlock opened the living room door with Rosie in his arms and Molly rushed past him, heading straight for Mycroft who had jumped to his feet at the sound of the door, leaving Lestrade led on the floor, holding a cuddly pug and making woof woof noises with not even Frazer paying him attention. When he looked up at Sherlock, and smiled at Rosie, he saw the exact moment he realised that there was one thing he’d forgotten to tell Molly and that it was now too late.

“Mycroft,” Molly threw her arms around Mycroft’s neck and reached up on tip toes to kiss his cheek, “Congratulations.”

All the air left the room in a split second and everything seemed to stop, dropping into the slowest of slow motion as Lestrade tried to do something, anything, to stop what was about it happen but then just as quickly the warmth and light of the room returned as Mycroft closed his arms around Molly’s waist and pulled her into a hug. “Thank you Miss Hooper, you are most kind.”

“I … er …” she leant back against his arm, looking him in the eye. “Was Mycroft too familiar? I apologise Mr Holmes.”

Mycroft blushed and tightened his arm around her just slightly before leaning to her ear as if telling a secret as he smiled and almost whispered, “Not at all Miss Hooper.” 

“Ok, so why is everyone staring at me and why are you Miss Hoopering me?” It was the most uncomfortable Lestrade had seen Molly look in years and he desperately wanted to help but he knew that there was little he could do to make things better now.

“Well,” Mycroft released one arm from around her waist and gestured towards Lestrade. “If you look at Gregory right now you will see shock on his face at the fact that I have not yet pushed you away and sadness that you seem so uncomfortable and he cannot do anything to help and if you look at Sherlock you will see panic, sadness and apology on his face because he believes that he failed to tell you everything of importance.”

Molly didn’t let go of Mycroft but she turned her head to look at Sherlock and then at Lestrade, who were sporting the expressions she had just been warned of, and then she looked back at Mycroft, furrowing her brow in a question. “Why”

“Why doesn’t matters anymore because when I look at your face I see only happiness and care and I hope that you can see something of the same on mine.” She nodded and smiled just slightly. “Mycroft is in no way too familiar for a person as important and as lovely as you are Miss Hooper.”

Leaning up to kiss him on the cheek again Molly grinned, “Then it’s Molly not Miss Hooper Mycroft.”

Mycroft took a minute, clearly assessing her face for any doubt and then he glanced at Sherlock and then Lestrade, catching the warmth and love in their faces as they watched him not freaking out at the contact and then he looked back to Molly

“Thank you Molly, for what you just did without even knowing it” Her brow furrowed again in confusion for a second but then she seemed to file it away for later and her smile returned, “but more importantly, thank you for being brave enough to take on the madness that is my brother.”


	33. Chapter 33

“Who would have thought it hey Molly?” Lestrade stood up from the floor, lifted a crying, shouting little boy into his arms, and crossed the room to where Sherlock stood by the door. “Jealousy is an inbuilt Holmes emotion, who knew?”

Frazer’s crying stopped the second he was sat on uncle Sherlock’s spare arm and Molly laughed, “Never would have thought it Greg, not ever.” Earning them both a scowl from their respective partners.

“Rosie,” Sherlock kissed her cheek and smiled “this is Frazer,” Frazer grinned at hearing his name and reached his hand out towards Rosie.

“Well trained already Myc, polite handshakes are the,” Lestrade suddenly stopped talking at Frazer smacked Rosie hard on the leg with his hand and she looked at him stunned for a second before reaching out her arm and hitting him in the head. 

It all happened so quickly that none of the adults could do anything and suddenly Sherlock had two screaming children in his arms, clutching at his clothes and wiping their tears, and noses, on his shirt, while the other adults in the room collapsed laughing at the look of panic on his face.

The adults looked at each other, still laughing and trying to work out what on earth they should do about what just happened while the children continued to scream and cry. 

Eventually, having seemingly concluded that someone had to do something, Molly calmed her laughing, pulled her face straight and stepped towards the children first reaching for Rosie and sitting her on the floor,

“Rosamund Mary Watson!”

And then for Frazer and doing the same

“Frazer Michael Holmes!”

Before kneeling down in front of them,

“That is no way to treat your cousin. Uncle Sherlock has two arms and will play with both of you but not if you are going to hurt each other.” Rosie sat looking wide eyed at Molly while Frazer looked down at his legs and chewed on his fist. “Sharing is hard, as is meeting new people, but you cannot hit people, it makes people sad.”

Mycroft watched, mouth slightly open in shock, and Lestrade could see just how hard he was working not to step in and ‘rescue’ his son from a telling off so he slipped his arm around his waist and held him tight against his side until he relaxed a little.

“Now” Molly grabbed one of the animals off the floor and pulled Rosie’s favourite cuddle toy out of the pocket of her cardigan and she handed them to the children with a smile and a complete change in her tone of voice. “How about we play nicely together with these and get to know each other a bit?”

Rosie grinned at Molly and, having looked at her and then back to Molly, as if trying to work out what the words had meant and what he was supposed to do now, so did Frazer and Lestrade and Mycroft dropped to their knees next to him, giving him a hug between them, as Molly did the same to Rosie. Sherlock walked around the group on the floor and settled himself down, cross legged on the floor, equidistant from his niece and nephew, clearly making every attempt to avoid another tantrum from either child, and Mycroft caught his eye with a smile, thanking him for his consideration. 

Frazer sat quietly watching for a while as Rosie tried, with Molly’s help, to build a tower with the set of stackie cups they’d brought in the nappy bag and Mycroft and Lestrade used the cuddly toys and the small plastic animals Sherlock had bought while he was out clothes shopping, to pretend they were running some kind of farm or zoo or, possibly, Jurassic park given the odd collection of animals.

Sherlock remained where he was, sat cross legged on the floor, but he reached for the crayons and some paper and began doodling as he watched the others play, even trying to capture the sight of his brother, led on his tummy on the floor, knees bent, kicking his feet in the air as he gave a voice to a pterodactyl and a hippo who both seemed to be arguing with the growling tiger Lestrade was playing with, but his drawing skills were rather lacking especially when he was being stared at by a small boy.

“Would you like a go?” Sherlock offered the crayon in his hand towards Frazer and lifted a clean piece of paper from the pile, laying it on the floor in front of his knees. “You can if you want to sweetheart.” 

There was no movement, Frazer looked from the crayon to the paper and back to Sherlock’s face a few times but he seemed to be struggling to understand the offer so Sherlock pushed himself forward on to his knees and reached out to put the crayon directly into his hand and then sat down, tapping the paper in front of him as he smiled, “your picture sweetheart.”

Frazer shuffled on his bottom towards Sherlock, seeming a little unsure, especially when Rosie crawled across in front of him, cuddle rabbit in hand, and joined Lestrade in his attempts to defeat Mycroft’s animal army, but he kept moving until he was sat next to the paper, facing Sherlock, at which point Sherlock smiled at him and tapped the blank piece of paper again before going back to his own drawing.

Initially the marks were just scribbles, as Frazer tried to work out how to hold the crayon successfully but it only took one demonstration of the grip by his uncle, and one physical repositioning of the crayon in his hand, for Frazer to have it sussed and suddenly the scribbles seemed to develop more actual shape.

A fight between a Lestrade powered T-Rex, a Rosie led, entirely out of scale, rabbit and a Mycroft commanded dog, which had Molly in fits of giggles as she watched, suddenly ended with Mycroft’s dog flying through the air and landing in the middle of Frazer’s piece of paper while T-Rex Lestrade growled triumphantly and Rosie rabbit squealed loudly.

Frazer looked around at the others, a little confused by what was happening, and Mycroft moved towards him reaching to retrieve his animal and to try and apologise, “sorry son, Geg geg and Rosie are picking on daddy.” But Frazer’s hand was quicker and he picked the small plastic dog up, turning it around in his hands looking at it carefully. “Do you want to play with that one?” Frazer looked up and then back to the animal without response.

“Here,” Lestrade grabbed another animal from the pile and tossed it to Mycroft, “leave that one to Frazer and come here for round two, rabbit and T-Rex are going to beat you again aren’t they Rosie?”

“Oh are you?” Mycroft reached to ruffle Frazer’s hair affectionately and then turned to his adversaries, lying back on his front and grinning at them manically “lions aren’t as easy to defeat as dogs you know. I’m the head of the food chain.” And with that Mycroft roared and Lestrade collapsed in a fit of giggles which allowed for an easy attack to savage his T-Rex and throw him to his death across the room before Rosie’s rabbit quickly defeated the lion by sitting on him and squashing him flat.

Despite the laughing and roaring Frazer hadn’t been distracted from the toy in his hand and, when he’d looked at it carefully, he stood it back on the paper and picked up his crayon, getting the grip right first time, and started making marks on the paper as Sherlock watched him in amazement.

“My?” He was speaking quietly, without moving much, in an attempt not to disturb Frazer from what he was doing. “What other animals do you have there?”

“There are lots of different ones, you bought them, don’t you know what there is?”

“Honestly? No idea, I realised we should have something for him to play with just as I was about to leave the shop and the tub of animal was there near the till so I picked it up and bought it.”

Lestrade laughed, “I guess we should be grateful he didn’t end up with breast pads and baby wipes really” 

“He was happy with the tins from the cupboard earlier so I doubt he would mind but right now will you just pass me some other animal please?”

Lestrade picked a cat from the pile and tossed it to Sherlock who grabbed it out of the air and stood it next to the dog on Frazer’s paper. A moment later came a cow and then, for reasons known only to Lestrade and Sherlock and entirely not going to be shared with Molly and Mycroft, his next offering was a crocodile which earned him a glare as he grinned and winked at Sherlock.

The animals were stood in a row on the paper and Frazer picked each one up in turn, looking it over and then making marks on the paper next to it until he came to the crocodile. He picked it up and looked at the top, turned to over to look at its tummy and then turned it again to look at the sharp teeth in its mouth before he looked at Sherlock and handed him the toy.

Lestrade had been curious as to what was going on, as had Mycroft and they’d both edged quietly closer as they watched nephew and uncle playing together but when he looked over Frazer’s shoulder at his picture Lestrade couldn’t be quiet any longer. “Wow! We’re gona have to show Michael this Myc, look.”

Mycroft leant forward to look and Molly couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer so she joined them as they read three almost perfectly written words, dog, cat, cow, from Frazer’s paper.

“How is that even possible? He’s so little.” Molly sounded stunned and Mycroft looked it so Lestrade explained.

“Michael taught him lots of things, he was amazing, truly amazing. I thought Frazer was just following his finger like a game but bloody Holmes’ always cleverer than we ever think they could be!”

Both Mycroft and Sherlock blushed at that and smiled shyly at Lestrade, “three Holmes’ and a pair of Watson’s Molly,” Lestrade shook his head and rolled his eyes dramatically, “it’s a good job we’re so damn normal isn’t it?”

Molly laughed at that and Lestrade grinned as he cuddled Frazer around the waist and told him just how proud of him he was.

Turning away from his paper Frazer reached his crayon towards Lestrade’s face and began to draw on his cheek,

“Frazer you can’t,” Molly reached out her hand to stop him but Mycroft caught her wrist gently and shook his head, much to her confusion, but she stopped speaking and made no attempt to slip her hand from his grip.

Once he’d finished with Lestrade’s cheek Frazer got to his knees and crawled towards Mycroft, smiling at him as he repeated the drawing before he turned back towards Sherlock and, having negotiated his way around Rosie who was sitting in the middle of the adults looking confused as she watched Frazer draw on all their faces, he drew the very same shape on Sherlock’s cheek.

Molly looked at Mycroft’s face and reached out to trace the marks Frazer had made as she leant close to his ear and whispered, “Why are you letting him drawing heart shapes on your cheeks? John will be cross if Rosie copies him you know!”

“I know,” Mycroft nodded slightly, he was well aware that drawing on people was not something normal parents allowed or encouraged but he also knew that this situation wasn’t normal “We’ll stop him when he’s more settled.”

Molly nodded slightly, almost in sympathy with the situation, “But why hearts? What do they mean?”

A small hand reached up and touched Molly’s face, distracting her from the question, and she almost pushed the hand away before composing herself and looking into the little blue eyes that were eyeing her carefully, “What is it Frazer sweetie?” He glanced between Molly and Mycroft and then back to Molly before he lifted the crayon to her cheek and drew a small heart there before looking back to Mycroft who nodded and smiled.

Molly looked on in confusion as Sherlock and Mycroft grinned and Lestrade leant forward and kissed Frazer’s cheek, “You are such a clever boy Frazer, Molly is very much part by of the family.” And the confusion slipped from Molly’s face to be replaced by a warm smile and a tear slowly rolling down her cheek as she reached out to cuddle him.

Suddenly deciding that jealousy wasn’t just a Holmes trait but actually a trait of all little children, Rosie crawled on to Molly’s lap just as she reached for Frazer to lift him on to her knee for a cuddle and she leaned close into Molly’s left shoulder as Frazer did the same to her right. “We’ve got a pair of heart breakers here haven’t we?” 

Mycroft and Lestrade nodded and smiled while Sherlock shuffled closer to Molly, wrapping himself around her back, and whispered something in her ear that made her grin and kiss his cheek.


	34. Chapter 34

“What time is John due? And Mrs Hudson? Is she coming?” Mycroft checked his watch, he knew John finished at the surgery at five thirty and it was nearly six now.

Sherlock glanced up at the clock on the wall and moved to stand up, “Any minute I would say, I’ll explain things before they come in here, I’ll make sure I don’t forget the important bit this time”

“Right! Seriously Sherlock, what have you still not told me.” Molly demanded.

“It doesn’t matter now”

“Then why won’t you tell me?” Molly stood up, addressing Sherlock with a voice somewhere between anger and upset.

“Because he considers it not to be his to tell when I’m in the room Molly.”

“That makes no sense,” she turned and looked at Mycroft, “if he should already have told me and will be telling John then why shouldn’t I know now?”

“I think,” he walked around the children on the floor and came up beside Molly taking her hand, “that he is concerned that I will be embarrassed to have the discussion in my presence or that you will be upset that you did something wrong when you arrived because you didn’t know.”

“What did I do?”

“Nothing Molly, well actually that is not true but nothing that I wish you hadn’t.”

“Okay, I’m confused now and I think I might have had enough of being made to feel like the idiot in the room so please explain or just let me leave.” 

Mycroft took a breath and released Molly’s hand, pulling her into a hug instead. “You, Molly Hooper, are the first lady to have touched me, beyond a handshake, in thirty years and only the third person, after Gregory and Sherlock, or fourth if you count Frazer. That is why they looked so worried when you first came in here. I have no doubt that you are clever enough to work out many of the details of why that might be and I also suspect that you were already part way to your own conclusions about my past when you saw the changes in me when you entered this room. I believe it unlikely that you would have thrown your arms around me and congratulated me on my son if I was dressed in one of my suits and behaving like a prick as usual. I think it more likely that you would have paid all your attention to Frazer, checking that I hadn’t damaged him too much yet, if that were the case.”

Molly was stood in Mycroft’s arms, looking up at him as he spoke and Lestrade and Sherlock exchanged concerned smiles as they listened.

“That’s … erm… ok.” She stopped talking and just stared at Mycroft for a few seconds, clearly ordering her thoughts and understanding before she smiled warmly, “Thank you Mycroft, Thank you for telling me.” Molly put her arms around Mycroft’s back and squeezed him tight, resting her head against his chest. “You will be a great daddy Mycroft, you and Greg are doing a fantastic job and Sherlock and I will help any way we can.”

 

 

‘Knock, Knock’

Sherlock turned towards the door, “I won’t be long.”

“Sherlock?” The word was questioning and slightly unsure and Sherlock turned to look at his brother waiting for the rest of the question.

“What My?”

“I think,” Mycroft paused and reached down to pick Frazer up from the floor, “that Frazer and I are capable of answering our own front door.”

“Really?!” Lestrade’s head flew round so quickly it made his neck hurt.

“Yes really, although.” He reached out his hand to take Lestrade’s, “you can come and keep an eye on us while we do if you wish?”

Lestrade smiled and pulled him close, “let’s call it showing support instead of keeping an eye shall we?”

“Whatever you say Gregory dear,” Mycroft winked as Molly made an almost squealing noise at the endearment, “either way, let’s go before they decide we’re not in and get angry at the kidnapping”

They left the room with a laugh, closing the door behind them, but Lestrade really wasn’t sure that this was a good idea, he was sure that Mrs Hudson was too old, and John too unpredictable right now, for a shock like this.

 

 

“What am I doing here Sherlock?” 

John was facing away from the door as it opened, tapping his foot and flexing his hands and he started talking without looking while Mrs Hudson’s mouth dropped open in shock. As he turned around John spotted little legs in the arms in front of him and reached to take his daughter from Sherlock before he finally looked up properly and came face to face with Mycroft with not his daughter in his arms. 

For a second he stood there, arms still outstretched towards the child and just looked at Mycroft and Frazer and then over Mycroft’s shoulder to Lestrade before he looked back at the boy and smiled, reaching out his hand to try and touch his.

“Is this Frazer?” 

Even from behind Lestrade could tell the look of confusion, mixed with anger and a little of something else, that was now being directed at John by Mycroft so he stepped forward and pulled the door open fully, allowing Mrs Hudson, who had not been this quiet for this long in the whole time he’d known her, to step past them into the hall, and he directed her to the living room where she was enthusiastically greeted by Sherlock, Molly and Rosie before the door was closed and silence dropped back into the hall where Mycroft and John still stood staring at each other over the doorstep.

“Sherlock did not inform me that he had told you about Frazer, I understood that he had merely invited you here to collect Rosamund.”

“Erm…” John’s stance changed, unconvincingly, as he seemed to try and ‘be a soldier’ but he couldn’t lift his eyes from the floor and his feet shuffled uncomfortably against the step.

“Sherlock didn’t tell you did he?” Lestrade stepped past Mycroft and stood himself next to John, resting his hand on his shoulder.

“No,” 

“Well,” Lestrade turned and smiled at Mycroft, “That confirms a thing or two.”

“It does?” Both Mycroft and John asked the same question at the same time.

“I’d say so, yes.” Lestrade squeezed John’s shoulder gently “I think we need to find someone for you to see about what’s been done to your brain in the time you spent with Eurus.” And then he looked at Mycroft and Frazer “and I think we can be sure that Michael was right about what Eurus wanted your little man to be called.” 

Mycroft tightened his arms slightly around Frazer and then nodded at Lestrade, “You make a good point.”

“Should I go?” John looked up at Mycroft, nervousness clear on his face, “I can just collect Rosie and go, I know that those under the influence can’t be trusted.”

“Don’t be ridiculous John,” Mycroft rolled his eyes, “You and Rosie are always welcome, we all need to be careful about the effects of my sister and making sure that we receive the help we need that is all.” 

Mycroft glanced towards Lestrade and John’s face broke into a wide grin “Oh My god! Have you two finally got your shit together?”

Lestrade blushed red and dropped his eyes to the floor but Mycroft just smiled and nodded, “I think you could say that John, yes.”

“Fantastic,” John stepped towards Lestrade and slapped him on the back, “No need for embarrassment mate, I’m happy for the three of you.” 

“Thanks.” Lestrade looked up with a grin and then watched with interest as John offered his hand to Mycroft, making no attempt to get any closer, and Mycroft took his hand firmly and shook it. 

“Thank you for your congratulations John, we are delighted you approve because we were hoping that Rosie and Frazer would be able to be friends and, if you are willing, I thought we may share a nanny as it would ensure security and would allow for the flexibility we all require for the madness of our work.”

“Shall we continue this inside?” Lestrade suggested, rubbing his hands together to fight off the cold, and Mycroft nodded walking back towards the living room with John following as Lestrade shut the door and walked slowly behind them, glancing at the once again closed door of uncle Rudi’s ‘office’ and wondering how he was going to engineer a meeting in there with John.

 

 

“Da Da Da.” Frazer gripped tightly to Mycroft’s shirt sleeve as they walked back into the living room with John and Rosie raced towards them on her knees shouting da da and reaching her arms up. Mycroft tightened his arm around him in comfort and kissed his confused cheek as John picked Rosie up and blew a raspberry on her tummy,

“Hey beautiful girl, have you been good for Auntie Molly and your uncles?”

“Ess, Da da ess”

“I’m sure you have, you’re always good aren’t you?” John carried her back to the toys on the floor in the middle of the room and sat down in the armchair by the fire, warming himself from the cold outside.

“Mr Holmes,” Mrs Hudson stood up from the sofa and stepped nervously towards Mycroft and Frazer just as Lestrade appeared in the doorway behind him and rested his hand, safe and warm against the small of his back. “I cannot believe this Mr Holmes, how is this even possible.”

“Has my brother not filled you in Mrs Hudson,” Mycroft looked over her head to Sherlock who shook his head, clearly he’d taken Mycroft at his word about greeting John and Mrs Hudson himself. 

“No, he was being he usual mysterious self!”

“Well then, Mrs Hudson, please allow me the pleasure of introducing you to a rather special young man. This,” Mycroft kissed Frazer gently on the cheek causing him to squeal and wave his arms around, “Is Frazer, he’s come to live with Gregory and myself and we are going to do our best to raise him rather better than Sherlock and I were raised.”

“Detective inspector,” Mrs Hudson’s face broke out into a wide smile as she looked at Lestrade over Mycroft’s shoulder, “Have you finally got your man?!”

Lestrade felt himself blush and he ducked his head and hid his face against the back of Mycroft’s neck as he nodded.

“I have to be honest Mr Holmes, I never really understood what the inspector found so appealing,” Mrs Hudson addressed Mycroft blankly, “however, without those bloody awful suits you are rather more dashing.” And then she winked a wicked and suggestive wink at him and he couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

 

Following introductions, and an explanation as to why most people present had drawings on their faces, something John was rather concerned about because he thought Rosie might have done them, they all settled back on the floor playing and talking and, in Mrs Hudson’s and John’s cases allowing themselves to be added to Frazer’s tattooed number, while they caught up on each other’s news and waited for dinner to arrive.

“John?” Having looked at the clock and found that dinner was due to arrive in half an hour Lestrade decided that it was now or never if he was going to get a chance to clear up a few things with John. “Would you mind helping me sort a few things for dinner?”

“I’ll help,” Sherlock jumped up from the floor earning him shocked looks from everyone except Lestrade, the look he got from Lestrade was something much sweeter.”

“Thanks for the offer but I haven’t seen John for a catch up in ages, I thought we could steal a few minutes while pretending we were actually being helpful.”

John stood up and smiled at Lestrade, “I’ll make tea, you can do the rest!”

 

 

“This isn’t the kitchen?” Lestrade had walked the ‘wrong’ way down the hall and opened the now none squeaky door of Uncle Rudi’s ‘office’ and he gestured for John to go inside.

“We need to talk, come on.” Lestrade walked through the door and turned to study John as he entered the room and looked around, slowly taking in the contents of the space, clearly organising a few things in his brain. “I think you know more than maybe even you think you do about the childhoods endured by our Holmes boys, I think you knew just how terrifying Myc would find the clowns and I think you knew that Sherlock would have laid there and let you kick him to death if you hadn’t stopped because he felt so guilty about not protecting Mary as he promised he would”

All the colour had drained from John’s face and he looked almost like he was going to pass out but he didn’t take his eyes away from Lestrade, clearly determined to listen to everything he had to say.

“They don’t hold it against you John, neither of them. They know how this all works and they know how they’ve changed with it all so please don’t think I’m here to make you feel worse about the shit that’s gone on.”

John straightened his shoulders slightly, relief washing over him visibly.

“Eurus told you about Frazer and I worry that she told you other things that I don’t yet know and I need you to promise me something John.” He stepped closer and put his hand on John’s shoulder, squeezing it gently, “I need you to promise to tell me anything you remember her telling you, even if you think it might be upsetting to know. I can’t and won’t ask Myc or Sherlock any more questions about their childhoods but if you know anything, or if you realise when you see someone for deprograming, that you know anything, please promise you’ll tell me.”

John stood for a second and then he smiled at Lestrade, wrapping one arm strongly around his waist and the other around his back to rest his hand across his neck and pull his head down onto his shoulder holding him tightly until Lestrade could do nothing but give up and relax into his hold. “I will make that promise on one condition Greg.” Lestrade tensed and tried to stand up but John’s grip on him remained firm until he relaxed again. “You promise me that you will meet me for a pint, a walk, a curry or, on the odd occasion that the new shared nanny we’re apparently getting is unavailable, a trip to the soft play with the kids, at least once a fortnight where you take a break from being a one man Holmes wrangler and relax and have a laugh with the only other man on earth who knows why they’re worth all the madness they bring with them.”

Lestrade huffed a laugh against John’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around his back squeezing him tight, “I think I can make that deal although, now and again, we really should invite Molly to join us.”


	35. Chapter 35

“Dinner!” Lestrade shouted, banging once on the living room door, as he jogged from the kitchen to the front door, in response to the bell, and pulled it open quickly, before coming to a stuttering halt. “You’re not dinner.”

On the step stood Mr and Mrs Holmes, eyes cast down to the floor like naughty school children waiting outside the headmaster’s office “Sorry to disappoint you again Detective Inspector.” Mrs Holmes didn’t look up properly as she spoke, “I know that we did not commit to our attendance when Sherlock left earlier. We’ve brought a few things for Mycroft and his son and we would like to leave the things even if we can’t come in.”

Lestrade stood, blinking repeatedly as he ran that information through his brain a few times. Sherlock had been to see his parents? He’d invited them to the ‘family meets Frazer’ party he’d arranged? They had things for Mycroft? And for his son? 

Finally, after a second run through in his head, Lestrade’s brain came back online and he grinned at them. “You’ve come to see Mycroft and his son? And brought things for them?”

“Yes detective inspector, if he will see us?”

“It’s Greg not detective inspector” Lestrade smiled and reached out his hand to shake Mr Holmes’ “I’ll, erm, I can’t really just let you in without his permission, not after earlier,” Lestrade could hear the apology in his own voice and he saw the sadness and tears in the eyes of the Holmes parents as he spoke. “But I’ll go and get Mycroft.” He smiled, hoping it was reassuring, as he began to turn away from the door.

“Would you mind,” Mrs Holmes spoke and Lestrade turned back to look at her, “if you could help us to bring the things from the car before you tell Mycroft we’re here? If he doesn’t wish to see us then we will leave quickly but the things we’ve brought may help for tonight even if he burns them tomorrow.” 

“I’m sure he won’t burn anything.”

Mr Holmes raised his hand in a gesture Lestrade had seen his son use a million times and Lestrade did as he always did and fell silent, “He would be within his rights inspector, we have treated him appallingly and he may well want a whole new start with his son not reminders of us.”

“One second then and I’ll be with you.” Mr and Mrs Holmes walked away towards their car and Lestrade went back to the living room door, pulling it open slightly and leaning through the small gap, “Sorry, not dinner yet, just a cold caller, John will bring the tea in a minute.” And then he pulled the door back closed and went to the kitchen to find John. “Can you take the tea into the living room and then do everything you can to stop anyone coming out of there for me?”

John looked slightly concerned but agreed anyway so Lestrade walked back to the front door, as quietly as possible, and strode down the steps to help Mr Holmes who was trying to lift something that looked rather heavy from the back of his Landrover while Mrs Holmes, knelt on the backseat, directed him on how not to catch the edges of the beautiful carvings on the door frame. 

“Let me help,” Lestrade grabbed one corner of the wooden frame and Mr Holmes moved to hold the other corner more firmly as slowly and carefully, with Mrs Holmes supporting the movement from inside, a beautifully carved, dark wood cot finally emerged from the car and Lestrade looked at it, spotting the heart shapes carved in the ends and filing the information away in the, already rather full, ‘discuss with Eurus sometime’ box in his brain, and then looked up at the two people who were delivering it.

“All three of our children slept in this cot. When it survived the fire at Musgrave we felt it was a sign that we should keep it but we never expected it ever to be used again.” Mr Holmes explained before Mrs Holmes continued “If Mycroft wishes to burn it rather than to inflict it on his son then in many ways it will be a fitting end for it.”

Lestrade looked between the Holmes parents and said nothing, he knew, or at least he was almost sure he knew, that destroying it wouldn’t be further from Mycroft’s mind when he saw it but he wasn’t going to build up hope, that wasn’t fair on anyone.

 

They set the cot down carefully in the hall and Mrs Holmes unfurled the bundle of things in her arms to reveal a tiny set of sheets and blankets with stars and moons on them, which she laid in the cot, and two little sleep suits, with dinosaurs on the front, that she hung over the side. 

“I’ll go get him” Mr and Mrs Holmes nodded as their eyes drifted back to the floor, “I’ll only be a minute.”

 

 

Pushing the living room door open Lestrade stepped through and closed the door behind him earning him a suspicious look from Sherlock. “Can I borrow you a second Myc?”

Mycroft looked up from where he was crawling on the floor, with Rosie and Frazer both sat on his back as Lestrade glanced around the room, looking for some sort of jacket he could persuade him into before they left the room.

“Once my passengers have alighted I’ll be all yours,” Mycroft grinned and winked and Lestrade tried to grin back but he knew he wasn’t fooling any Holmes when Sherlock was on his feet, lifting Rosie down into John’s arms and Frazer into Molly’s, and helping his brother to his feet before his heart had thumped twice. “Is everything ok Gregory?”

“It … er…” Lestrade cast another look around the room hoping to spot a jacket he’d missed the first time but then he gave up and pulled Mycroft closer to the door, as far away from the others as he could but he still didn’t speak above a whisper. “We have some more guests; they say Sherlock invited them this afternoon.” Mycroft glanced over his shoulder at Sherlock who seemed to shrink into himself at the look. “They’ve brought you something and they really want to see you but they’ve said they’ll just go if you want them to.”

“My parents are in my hall is that correct?”

Lestrade nodded.

“Then we must go and speak with them.” Mycroft reached for Lestrade’s hand, threading their fingers together and kissed his cheek before he whispered in his ear “Into battle inspector,” and winked.

 

 

“Mummy, father, how lovely to see you again.”

Mr and Mrs Holmes had moved further into the hall while Lestrade was away and they were stood between Mycroft and the cot, almost obscuring it from view.

“We came to apologise,” Mrs Holmes spoke, “We did not do as we should have done this morning or when you were a boy, we failed to protect you and we are very sorry for that.”

“Thank you mummy, I am sorry for my.”

“No son!” Mr Holmes cut in forcefully and Mycroft’s grip on Lestrade’s hand tightened. “You do not ever say sorry for this, not ever. None of this is your fault, it is what it is and we need to make it better where we can but none of it is for you to say sorry for.”

“But I” 

“Mycroft! Will you just let your father finish please?!” 

Mycroft visibly flinched at the aggression in his mother’s words and she stepped towards him, clearly wanting to offer comfort but then realising that she couldn’t.

“What we need to say Mycroft is that we know that had either of us been brave enough to speak to you about what we suspected that man was doing to you,” Mr Holmes shot a look at the closed door of the room beside him, “or what he had done to you in the past when he admitted it, we would have given you the opportunity to tell us about Eurus. You kept that secret for all these years because we failed to do our job as your parents, we failed to be brave when you needed us to. We owe you a lifetime of apologies and we can only hope that one day you will forgive us for failing you and for making you responsible for things that we were too weak to face ourselves.”

Mycroft stood for a long moment just looking at his parents, he didn’t move and didn’t breath and but for the warmth of his hand in his Lestrade would have believed him to have been suddenly turned to stone. The time dragged and Mrs Holmes turned pleading eyes on Lestrade, as if she thought that he could somehow break through to Mycroft but he just stood still, holding Mycroft’s hand, and waited until his friend was ready to do whatever was to come next.

 

“Earlier today I was hugged by a wonderful woman who just felt like hugging me. I have known her for almost ten years and never before has she done such a thing. Yesterday Sherlock held me in his arms and told me that everything was going to be alright for the very first time in our lives. This morning he told me he loved me and that we didn’t need our parents because we had a rather wonderful family of our own already.”

Lestrade could feel the pain of the arrow Mycroft had just fired through his parents hearts and, despite everything, he felt angry at the nastiness of that comment and communicated it by releasing his grip slightly on Mycroft’s hand, not that Mycroft let go of his.

“It seems now,” Mycroft continued as if he hadn’t seen the pain in his parents eyes, “that Sherlock was misleading me as to his thoughts and that he was simply trying to ease my pain at your behaviour this morning.”

Without letting go of Lestrade’s hand Mycroft stepped closer to his parents, “I have made it my life’s work to never need anybody, to control everything around me and to protect myself from the pain of love, friendship and emotional human interaction.” Mycroft’s voice wasn’t wavering at all but his hand was beginning to tremble against Lestrade’s who reacted by curling his fingers back into a grip around it and moving forward with him. 

“I will never need you, not like I need Frazer or as I need Gregory and Sherlock, they are the lights that warm my very soul, the air that fills my lungs and the love that tends the pain that I am only now brave enough to face, however,” Mycroft squeezed Lestrade’s hand once and then let go of him, taking one last step towards his parents “It would be nice to add you both to the small, select group of people who I want to have in my life and who’s arms I feel safe to be in.”

Without a second’s thought Mrs Holmes closed the small gap between her and her son and she wrapped her arms around him, snuggling her head into his chest “Thank you, thank you Mykie” as Mycroft closed his arms around her back and laid his head down against hers. Mr Holmes watched his wife and son for a moment, tears running down his cheeks, before he approached them from the side and wrapped one arms around his wife and the other around his son and held them all together as Lestrade walked slowly away and hid himself in the kitchen, trying not to overhear the whispered, tear filled conversation that was taking place.

 

 

“Will you ask Sherlock and John to help you carry Frazer’s new cot to our room?” Mycroft walked into the kitchen grinning and kissed Lestrade rather more confidently that Lestrade would ever have expected given that his parents were stood just two steps behind him. “I’m going to bring Frazer in here to meet his grandparents while you do if that’s ok, we don’t have long before Angelo arrives although I suspect that he’s been delayed by Sherlock by now.”

Lestrade grinned, “a pet takeaway man is what every man needs,” and Mrs Holmes laughed,

“Sherlock tells us that you are rather a good cook Greg but that he tends to eat most of the ingredients.”

“Only partially true as ever mummy, Gregory is an exceptional cook and,” Mycroft grinned at him as he saw Lestrade blush, “He has the ability to engage Sherlock with eating in a manner no other person on earth has ever managed. Extra ingredients, in exceptionally time consuming packaging,” Mycroft winked at Lestrade who grinned back at him, “are bought for that very purpose.”

“It seems that we have a lot to thank you for Greg,” Mr Holmes reached out a hand to shake Lestrade’s.

“No thanks necessary. As I told Eurus when she told me to be careful I didn’t give too much of myself to her brothers and their children,” Lestrade caught the look of joy in Mrs Holmes’ eye at the casual reference to her daughter and he made it his intention to use her name as often as he could. “The Holmes boys are better for me than they know they are, it’s not the one way train they think it is believe me.”

“Well, thank you anyway; I look forward to getting to know you better in the years ahead.” 

“Me too sir, me too.” Lestrade said with a smile as he disappeared through the door in search of Sherlock and John.

 

 

 

 

Lestrade’s watch said almost two thirty as he made his way carefully across the bedroom, negotiating his way around the cot by touch, and the light of a small nightlight that he was sure wasn’t Frazer’s, and slipped into bed, relived that he’d made the trip to the bathroom without waking either of the other occupants of his bed.

Lestrade hadn’t even tried to settle to sleep before now, instead he watched Mycroft’s chest rise and fall, slowly and regularly, as a small boy, snuggled cosily under his daddy’s chin, rose and fell with the movement while both boys smiled and made adorably contented noises in their sleep.

 

The evening had gone better than Lestrade had ever dared hope it might when Mr and Mrs Holmes had arrived and as he’d led next to his partner he’d chosen to let his mind wander through the memories, organising everything and discarding the unnecessary things, rather than drift away into sleep.

The look of love on Mrs Holmes’ face when she was sat on the sofa, hand held by her husband, watching her sons play together like children, racing around the room with Rosie and Frazer on their backs and then conducting a Jurassic park meets London zoo play for Rosie and Frazer, complete with sound effects, was something he never ever wanted to forget whereas the wide eyed glare he’d received from Mycroft when John had been sorting things out for dinner and had asked ‘which daddy was eating hot and which of them was feeding Frazer’ and he’d had to admit to Eurus’ ‘two daddies’ comment, which he’d neglected to mention before now, was a much less precious memory even if it had led to a long discussion about what Frazer was actually going to call Lestrade because daddy and daddy might be a bit confusing.

Mycroft had sat between his parents on the large sofa while they ate dinner. Sherlock and Mrs Hudson had taken the smaller one and John, Molly and Lestrade had sat on the floor, with Frazer and Rosie between them and they’d all laughed and talked and shared in the meal until the food was gone and at least four members of the party were yawning widely, bringing the gathering to a happy conclusion as Mr and Mrs Holmes hugged and kissed everyone, including Mrs Hudson who was rather taken by surprise, and invited them all to dinner on Sunday.

 

 

 

Less than two weeks ago, at around about this ridiculous time in the morning Lestrade had received a phone call from a woman he didn’t know that had shattered his world to pieces in a way he was sure would never be repaired. Lady Smallwood had informed him, as calmly and kindly as she could, that three of his favourite people in the world may never again be turning up unexpectedly, and annoyingly, at his crime scenes and, more than that, that one or more of them may never be coming home at all. 

The bottom had dropped out of his stomach, and his heart, at that moment and he’d been unsure how to carry on breathing never mind carry on living but now, the longest yet shortest days of his life later he was laid in bed with his wonderful partner and his new baby son in a house that, after a bit of redecoration, was to be their family home. Sherlock and Molly were safely curled up together in the guest suite and John, Rosie and Mrs Hudson were only a short taxi ride away. 

Having been thrown in the air, rattled, broken, shattered and nearly destroyed the world around Lestrade seemed to have finally stopped shaking and turning and it had settled back to earth with more order and a lot more peace than it had ever had before.

 

Life was a very unpredictable and an entirely amazing thing it seemed.

 

 

Leaning forward to kiss Frazer on the cheek Lestrade snuggled closer to Mycroft, feeling a sleepy arm drift round him and pull him nearer until his head was resting on his warm, soft shoulder, listening to his heart beat calmly in his chest, close enough to his family that he could feel Frazer’s small breaths against his nose. 

Mycroft’s breathing remained steady and he cuddled him close as Lestrade rested his arm across his waist, gently cradling Frazer’s remarkably small feet in his hand, and closed his eyes, breathing deeply and smiling to himself as he let himself drift into a very peaceful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to say a big thank you to everyone who has read this. 
> 
> Those that commented all the way through, those that commented now and again, those that left kudos, those that did none of those things and those that are reading this months (or years) after its been posted.
> 
> Thank you :-)
> 
> I've enjoyed writing this and I hope to take Frazer and his family out to play again in future so I might see you all again then :-)
> 
> PB xx


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